


Not Your Average Fairytale

by after_midnightmunchies



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Blood and Violence, F/F, M/M, Mild Gore, Mild Language, Minor Character Death, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-05-20 23:51:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 45,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6030412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/after_midnightmunchies/pseuds/after_midnightmunchies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dipper and Mabel have lived in isolation with their guardian, Gideon, for as long as they can remember. Fearful of the outside world and their dormant power, the twins were content to stay within the walls of their tower, despite dreams of seeing the floating lights that dot the night every year on their birthday.</p><p>Bill Cipher is a notorious outlaw on a quest to find and recover the lost king's journals.</p><p>When their paths cross and an unlikely deal is struck, the trio find themselves on an adventure that no amount of reading or experience could have prepared them for!</p><p>(Tangled!AU with a twist; this isn't your little sister's bedtime story)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue (Part 1)

**Author's Note:**

> Since the finale steamrolled me like a train, I decided that it was the perfect time to post the prologue to the story that I've been slaving over for the past two months! (Posted in two parts due to length) Enjoy~!

Our tale begins with a flower, blessed by a drop of fallen sunlight. The flower blossomed, a radiant white and gold lily teeming with untapped power. Its roots stretched into the soil, enriching the earth with its magic. Over time the island became flooded with power, drawing curious beings to its shores.

Years passed and the island became inhabited by people from the mainland, whose journey was fueled by rumors of the mysterious coast always shrouded in fog. A kingdom steadily grew, founded by the knighted captain, Sir Quentin Trembley III, Esq. King Quentin held a deep regard for the supernatural natives of the island, and brokered a treaty with them. Unfortunately, his reign was short-lived, and as he was called back to the mainland, he selected a fresh face at random, appointing him the new king at the docks – a man by the name of Filbrick Pines.

Pines and his wife had recently travelled with their ten year old twins to the freshly settled Gravity Falls in the hopes of striking it rich in business. He was a greedy man, and probably the least qualified to rule a kingdom. Within the first fifteen years of his reign, he marketed the island to mainlanders, who eagerly purchased real estate not readily available. In order to keep their demands, he violated the treaty that King Quentin had established, forcing the supernatural beings deep into the forests to secure more land for expansion. Resentment boiled amongst the natives, and the kingdom inevitably found itself caught in a supernatural war.

King Filbrick led his forces against the magical creatures, the twins, now in their thirties, his reluctant generals. They managed to quell the resistance after a hard-fought four years, during which the youngest Pines brother, Sherman, married and had a son.

What followed were a couple years of apparent peace before tragedy struck: King Filbrick and his wife were found dead, assassinated by a couple of rebels. The citizens of Gravity Falls mourned for a week, during which the remaining Pines deliberated the fate of the kingdom. It was determined that because Sherman was the only one with an heir, he would take the throne. Stanford and Stanley would serve as diplomats, positions the island was severely lacking during their father’s reign.

The Pines sons were not as tyrannical as their father had been. Their mother was a free-spirited soul, who raised them with brilliant open minds and gentle spirits. Stanford quickly became the mediator for the magical beings of the island, promising to leave the forests untouched and managing to work out a trade agreement with them. Stanley bartered with neighboring islands, striking deals and alliances.

Despite Stanford’s efforts, King Sherman still had his hands full with crimes committed by humans and rebel creatures alike. Using Stanley’s resources, he militarized the country, but it was difficult to fight a force not understood by man.

Realizing that negotiating wasn’t enough, King Sherman assigned a new task to his brother – studying and analyzing the supernatural beings of Gravity Falls.

Stanford’s curious and exceptional mind eagerly accepted the challenge. Being the most logically inclined of the three brothers, Ford was always looking for mysteries to solve and new things to learn. He fully immersed himself in his work, documenting all of his findings in a series of journals. In order to avoid being overwhelmed, he employed a childhood friend of theirs and fellow scholar, Fiddleford Mcgucket, as his assistant.

As the years passed, King Sherman and his wife grew weary of the difficulty of managing a kingdom and raising their son. One day, King Sherman collapsed of exhaustion. The doctors put him on bed rest for a few weeks, leaving his son, Robert, to oversee everything. Sherman called in his brothers to supervise the sixteen year old; while he’d been born and bred for the job, he _was_ only a child.

Robert showed much promise and maturity as interim king, so much so that his parents decided to step down from the throne and hand it over to him full-time. Sherman’s health was declining, and Robert was more than willing to relieve him. Immediately following the coronation, Sherman and his wife moved to the mainland to seek proper treatment for the former king.

Stanley continued to serve as a foreign diplomat, while Stanford doubled as supernatural studier and royal adviser. King Robert followed the precedent set by his father, maintaining relative peace and happiness. He welcomed more and more newcomers from foreign lands, and often hosted diplomats and distinguished guests.

One such guest was a wealthy young woman named Caskey. While all of the other guests sought out the king’s attention, Caskey hovered about the food table, arms crossed and a bored glaze over her eyes. Robert felt himself drawn to her, excusing himself and making a point of showing her a good time. Four years later, the couple was wed under a clear, starry sky.

The couple enjoyed five years together before discovering that they were pregnant with an heir. It was an incredibly joyous occasion for the kingdom, and a full week’s festival was held in honor of its favorite rulers.

Unfortunately, after the high always comes the fall. Amidst the celebrations, travel, and booze, a plague found its way onto the island. The disease spread like wildfire, devastating a large part of the human population. Stanford was called in to help contain it with magic, but he wasn’t quick enough to save his nephew.

Queen Caskey fell gravely ill soon after. Within a month, she was confined to her bed. There was little doctors could offer – the only thing that could save her at that point was a miracle.

* * *

Stanley tapped his fingers against the edge of the ship impatiently. If the vessel wasn’t docked in two seconds, he was leaping overboard and swimming to shore. It had taken him long enough to receive word about the plague; he wasn’t exactly eager to waste another minute.

Stanford met him on the docks, two horses’ reins in one hand, a journal in the other.

“How can you read at a time like this?” Stanley scolded, snatching a set of reins and mounting a horse in one graceful sweep.

Stanford snapped the book shut, shooting his twin a glare as he jumped onto his own horse. “For your information, Lee, this book could contain the only chance we have.”

Stanley immediately shut his mouth, gripping the reins tightly. “I’m listening…”

Stanford rolled his eyes, whipping the reins and steering toward the castle, shouting his findings over the wind to his brother.

“And are you sure this will work? What if it isn’t even real?”

Stanford stopped in front of the gates, hopping off and placing his reading glasses on his face. He caught his brother mimic him in his peripheral vision as he pulled the journal back out, thumbing through the pages.

“Here!” he cried triumphantly, gesturing his brother closer. “According to this entry I wrote a few years back, this island was discovered to have literal magical roots.”

“Yeah, that clears things up,” Stanley huffed, peering over his twin’s shoulder as they strode briskly through the castle.

“Well if you’d let me finish,” Stanford grumbled, fishing a folded piece of paper from his coat pockets. He opened it, revealing a map of the forests. “A gnome by the name of Shmebulock, Sr., told me that he’d seen the flower somewhere around here,” he pointed at a circled area, “but a demon who had been advising me told me that it had been moved by some human who’d found it long before we were born. He couldn’t give me an exact location, but he said it was in this general vicinity,” he pointed to a large “x” on the map.

“Alright, so the fate of our niece, her unborn child, and the entire kingdom, rests in the vague directions to a ‘magic flower’ given to you by a demon and a weird gnome.” Stanley crossed his arms incredulously.

“I know it seems sketchy, but this is our only shot!” Stanford countered, waving the map. “Are you with me, Lee?”

They stood in front of their niece’s bedroom, Stanford’s six-fingered hand outstretched. Stanley looked from the hand to his twin’s sincere face. His service in the magical forests had kept him youthful, though his eyes were crinkled with worry.

Stanley forced a small, hopefully reassuring smile, gripping his brother’s hand and giving a firm shake. “Whatever you need, Sixer, I’m your man!”

Stanford returned the smile, squeezing his brother’s hand for a bit of extra reassurance. Suddenly, the doors burst open, a guard scrambling out and nearly running into them.

“Oh, Sir Stanford, Sir Stanley, thank goodness you’ve returned!” the guard bowed to them quickly.

The twins nodded politely, waiting for the man to continue.

“Th-the queen is getting worse!” he stuttered, wringing his hands around his spear anxiously. “The doctors have hit a wall with what to do next. We were hoping that you’d found a solution, sir.”

Stanford stepped forward, his war general instincts kicking back in. “I believe I have. Please assemble every guard available in the throne room as soon as possible. That includes those set to guard the queen. I will need all hands on deck for this.”

The guard opened his mouth to counter, but was dismissed with a salute. As the man hurried off, Stanford turned to his brother, grabbing his shoulders.

“Lee, I need you to guard our niece. Stay by her side, get her whatever she needs, and monitor her condition. I will lead the expedition for the flower.”

Stanley frowned, swatting his brother’s hands off. “No way! I should be right there with you! Leave a couple of guards to assist her! Heck, let Fiddles babysit! Why do I have to do it?”

“Because she is getting worse. I may not find the flower, and even if I do, there’s no guarantee that it will heal her. If this worst case scenario comes to pass, I want her last moments to be with someone that I can trust to make it the most comfortable for her. We’re all the family that she has left, Lee.”

Stanley nodded, wiping the traitorous tears from his eyes before they could fall, catching Stanford doing the same. “You’re right. It would be my greatest honor, sir.”

He saluted to his brother, who returned the gesture grimly. “Good luck.”

* * *

Meanwhile, deep in the forests of Gravity Falls, there lived a man by the name of Gideon Gleeful.

A young Gideon and his parents were part of the wave of settlers that moved to the island after King Quentin passed the throne over to the Pines Family. Like many others, they were involuntarily swept into the drama of the supernatural war.

Gideon’s house had been near the outskirts of town on a large plot of land, his parents believing it to be enough room for their energetic son to play in. All seemed well, until Gideon’s father was drafted to the king’s forces. Despite the humans winning, the casualties suffered were not to be overlooked. Gideon’s father returned with a wooden stand-in where his left leg had been.

Every night, Gideon would hear him moan or cry out in pain. He knew that his father put a brave face on for him during the day, but there was no hiding the trauma the injury caused.

Then came the rebels, who struck under the cover of darkness. The king and queen hadn’t been the first assassinated at the hand of the revolutionaries. No, the family that lived closest to the woods were the first to experience their wrath.

It happened all too quickly and not fast enough for the teenager. Rustling could be heard from outside, followed by inhuman snarling. His mother rushed in and dragged his sleep-dazed body to the closet, throwing a blanket over him and kissing his forehead.

Before he could react, the front door was broken down and the windows simultaneously shattered. His mother shot him a final, tearful gaze before shutting the closet and diving onto his bed. Not a second later, the door to his room was thrown open, and a couple of snarling shades scrambled in. They wasted no time in launching themselves at the bed, claws fully extended and fangs bared. Gideon stifled a cry at he heard his mother scream, his father’s shrieks of pain not far off.

The pale teen helplessly watched his mother be shredded and torn apart without remorse. Blood painted the white walls and wood floors. Pieces of hair and skin flew across the room. Bones knocked against the door he hid behind, muscle still attached to some.

He lost track of how long the torment lasted, but the shadowy figures did not retreat until the rising sun forced them to. Gideon waited until the house was dead silent before tenderly emerging from his hiding place, the blanket his mother threw on him securely fastened around his shoulders. He gripped the fabric with bone-white knuckles as he took in the full scene before him.

He carefully tiptoed around the blood and dismembered parts of his mother, entering the corridor and closing the door. He took a breath, checking his feet for blood before catching a glimpse of red animal prints staining the floor. Peering into his parents’ room, he found a sight that instantly made him empty the contents of his stomach.

His father’s head had been severed off, the cold, dead eyes staring up at him. The creatures seemed to think it would be humorous to remove the rest of his limbs from his body, an arm dangling off the bed, the other arm hanging on the hat rack, his remaining leg sticking out of the dresser, and his spine half out of the window.

Gideon closed his eyes, but the scenes continued to flicker in front of him. He raced blindly out of the house and into the woods, tears involuntarily streaming from his face. He was afraid. Not of the beings that viciously murdered his parents, but of the result – death. His father’s injury had made him fear pain, but this… No, he could not die; he could never die. He would never die.

The answer had to lie in magic. If magic could kill, it also had to bring life.

Gideon had made his way into town, wasting no time in finding the library. He spent years in and out of there, studying magic, but mostly searching for answers to immortality. Eventually, he stumbled upon a book that told of a magical flower with the ability to heal the sick and injured. Two spells were inscribed in the corners of the page. Encoded on the following page was a map.

Ensuring that no one would be able to follow, Gideon tore the pages out of the book and slipped them into his hair. Eager as he was to search for this flower, he knew that he’d have to be prepared before venturing back into the forests for so long.

Years passed as Gideon worked on strengthening his magic. Finally, when he deemed himself ready, he reentered the magical forests.

* * *

“Just tell us where the flower is!” Stanford demanded, sword pointed at the half-demon’s chin.

Pink and blue swirled eyes stared back at the man coolly, a smug smirk stretching plump red lips. “Oh, come now, Ford, after all that I’ve helped you with, _this_ is how you repay me?”

“As much as I’ve enjoyed your little games, Miss Matrix, I do not have time for them.”

Star Matrix rolled her eyes, casually swatting the sword aside. “Look Fordsy, there’s not much else I can tell you.”

“Bullshit,” Stanford declared angrily, moving his blade closer to her throat. “I know that you know where it is, and you’re going to lead me to it!”

Star glared at him, arms crossed. “I don’t appreciate this tone you’ve picked up, _partner_. Why don’t you try asking nicely?”

Stanford grit his teeth and inhaled slowly, mumbling to himself. Star giggled upon hearing numbers under the man’s breath.

“I’m calm, I’m calm,” the man reassured himself before returning his gaze to the woman leaning against the tree before him. She was dressed in almost the same fashion she always wore to meet him: a thigh-length ruffled pink, baby blue, and sunflower tie-dyed-on-black dress with knee-high black boots. He shook his head at her bizarre and promiscuous clothing choice, but decided not to look too far into it knowing her.

“I know that you like me, babe, but don’t you have more pressing matters to attend to?” Star teased, exposing her pearly white teeth.

Stanford frowned, rolling his eyes. “Miss Matrix, would you be so kind as to show me where the flower is?”

“Aw, so close, sugar, but I didn’t hear the magic word,” Star pouted, though Stanford could see the amused light flickering in her eyes.

“I could kill you, you know,” Stanford growled.

Star giggled, raising her hands mockingly. “Alright, fine, I know when I’m beat. Here, help me up!”

She reached a hand out, allowing Stanford to pull her up onto his horse. She draped herself along his back, snaking her arms around his waist to grab the reins.

“Hang on to something” was the only warning Stanford received before being forcefully thrust forward by the sudden gallop his horse was thrown into.

* * *

Gideon whistled a tune as he sauntered through the woods, confident that the coast was clear. He nibbled on a piece of bread he’d bought in the market earlier, where someone had pointed out a few exposed grey hairs in his white mane.

It was quite a hike to make every week, but the benefits were well worth it. His tired eyes lit up with youth upon spotting the thorny bush he’d placed over his flower.

Yes, _his_ flower. His wonderful, magical, youth-bringing flower!

Gideon recalled tales from his childhood that cautioned against immortality and taught it to be a plague. He assumed that they would be right. Never could he have anticipated how delightful it was to live for as long as you wished!

Carefully, Gideon kneeled down and removed the bush, exposing the delicate gold lily. He took a moment to admire its beauty, feeling as though he had all the time in the world – which, at this point, he did.

“ _Rewolf maelg dna wolg_ ,” he began to recite, already feeling the magic of the flower pulse through his veins.

_Tel ruoy rewop enihs_

_Ekam eht kcolc esrever_

_Gnirb kcab tahw ecno saw enim.”_

Just as he finished the spell, he heard a horse whinnying and distant rustling.

“Shit!” he cried, quickly grabbing his basket and throwing the bush back onto the flower. He managed to retreat into the shadows right before a horse burst into the clearing, two humanoid figures on its back.

Gideon sank further into the bushes, studying the newcomers through a haze of rage.

“So is this it?” the man asked in an accusing tone. “Where’s the damn flower?”

The woman giggled, slipping off of the horse calmly. “Relax, Sixer, it’s right here.”

The man frowned, sliding out of the saddle to join her. Gideon noticed that he had six fingers on each hand, a rather distinct and rare trait.

“Your frustration is blinding you, dearest,” the woman spoke gently, stroking the man’s back in soothing circles.

The man tried to shrug her off, but she continued to stick close to him. “Star, please,” he grumbled. “Why can’t you just show me where the flower is? You know how important this is!”

“Yes, yes, you need the flower to save the queen. If I had a gold coin for every time you told me that-”

“I’m sorry,” the man said sincerely, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “But to me she’s not just the queen. Aside from my brother, she and her unborn child are the only family that I have left.”

The woman, Star, he assumed, resumed stroking the man’s back. She gingerly led him closer to the bush, her odd-colored eyes finding Gideon’s and a smirk tugging at her lips. “This is good, darling. Now that you’re no longer angry, try looking again.”

The man nodded, adjusting his glasses and looking around with a determined gaze. Finally, his eyes rested on the bush, eyebrows furrowing.

“That’s a rather out of place bush…” he murmured, grabbing the thorny bush with his riding gloves and lifting it.

Gideon bit his lip to keep from storming out of his hiding place. If it had only been the man, he would have defended his flower, but the woman with him gave him an uneasy feeling.

“Th-This is it!” the man exclaimed, hands shaking as he reached toward the flower. “Star, could you-”

“Say no more, babe.” Star reached into the side pack attached to the saddle and fished out a trowel and small sack, handing both to the man.

“Thank you!” The man shrugged his coat off and rolled up his sleeves, revealing well-defined, muscular forearms. He handed his coat to the woman before picking up the trowel and breaking into the soil. He quickly and carefully removed the entire plant and, with a bit of help from Star, placed it into the sack.

“Alright! Let’s get this to Caskey right away!” He clutched the flower like a lifeline, turning to his companion with a bright smile. “How can I ever repay you?”

The smug smirk returned as Star leaned in and whispered something to the man that made his face break into a furious blush. He leaped back bashfully, but Star followed him, planting an audible smooch on his lips before vanishing with a giggle.

The man shook his head, looking back down at the flower in his hands with a smile. Wasting no more time, he mounted his horse and hurried off to the castle.

Gideon watched him go with a glare, silently swearing his revenge.

* * *

Stanford hurried into the sitting room, tapping his foot impatiently as he waited for his brother.

“Ford!” Stanley’s eyes widened upon seeing his brother back so soon. “Good news or bad news?”

“See for yourself!” Stanford couldn’t contain his excitement as he placed the flower on the table between them.

Stanley was speechless as he stared at the gorgeous flower. Finally, he closed his jaw and swallowed hard. “So, how is this going to work?”

“Well, I was hoping you’d be willing to test it with me first?” Stanford admitted bashfully. “We don’t have much time now that it’s been unrooted, so we’ll just conduct a quick test. If it works, then I’ll help the chefs prepare a soup for the queen.”

Stanley glanced at the flower one more time before nodding. “Fair enough, let’s do it!”

“Great! Now there are two incantations that I know of, one for youth and one for healing–”

“Let’s do youth. We’re certainly not getting any younger here,” Stanley grumbled.

“Right, let’s see if I remember correctly…” Stanford closed his eyes and concentrated, reciting the words that Star had written for him a couple of years ago.

_“Rewolf maelg dna wolg,_

_Tel ruoy rewop enihs._

_Ekam eht kcolc esrever,_

_Gnirb kcab tahw ecno saw enim.”_

Almost immediately, the twins felt themselves wrapped in a soothing blanket of what seemed like pollen, streaming out of the flower’s petals. At the same time, they could feel their skin softening and its elasticity returning. The grey faded from their hair, replaced with the dark brown it had been before. Their joints sprung back into place. It was liberating.

“Yep, I think it works, Sixer,” Stanley chuckled, punching his brother in the shoulder like he did when they were younger.

Stanford laughed, picking up the flower. “This is great! I’m going to get to work on the soup. You should get back to Caskey.”

“Yessir!” Stanley saluted before literally running back into the bedroom.

Stanford shook his head fondly at his brother. Finally, things were looking up.

* * *

The magic of the flower instantly cured the queen’s illness. Two months later, she delivered not one, but two healthy babies, a girl and a boy. She named the starry-eyed girl Mabel and the quiet and contemplative boy Roderick.

“Oh, Ford, Lee, just look at them!” Queen Caskey cooed, cradling her two bundles lovingly.

The elder twins stepped up with gentle smiles on their faces. Caskey handed them each a swaddled baby, curling up into her blanket as she gauged their reactions.

Stanley looked down at the girl in his arms, running his fingers through her full head of hair. Mabel’s large brown eyes focused on him, a merry light dancing in them.

“She’s beautiful,” Stanley chuckled, rocking her gently. Mabel’s eyes closed and she released a content sigh. Stanley could feel his heart melt.

Stanford brushed Roderick’s hair back, eyes widening at the strange mark that streaked across the baby’s forehead. “Was he born with this?” he asked Caskey, who sat up to get a better view.

“Well I certainly didn’t have anyone draw across his forehead, if that’s what you’re implying,” she jested lightly.

Stanford smiled and shook his head. “Right, sorry, it’s just that… this mark…” He glanced back down at the connected lines. “It resembles a constellation, the Big Dipper.”

Stanley gingerly made his way over, still bouncing with Mabel. “So the kid has a weird mark on his head, what of it?”

Stanford didn’t answer, mumbling something as he passed his fingers delicately over the mark. The constellation suddenly lit up, Roderick’s eyes glowing faintly. As Stanford continued, the glowing brightened but Roderick remained silent.

“Ford, what are you doing?!” Caskey shrieked, reaching for her son. She moved to get up, but was made suddenly aware of how weak she was, falling back onto her pillows. “Wha-?”

Stanford began chanting louder, turning toward his brother and great niece. As he predicted, Mabel’s eyes and hair began to glow faintly, also growing stronger as he continued.

“What the hell?” Stanley exclaimed, holding Mabel away from his person.

Finally, Stanford finished, Roderick’s eyes and birthmark and Mabel’s eyes and hair fading back to their natural colors. The babies each released a small yawn, stretching their limbs before curling back up into their great uncles’ arms. Stanford turned to face his niece, an uncertain expression on his face. “How can I explain this?” he contemplated.

“Hmm, how about by telling us what the fuck that was about?” Stanley grouched, receiving a warning glare from Caskey. “Oh please, it’s not like they can understand me!”

“Well, during my studies I found a report in a book that said star-related markings carry power,” Stanford began, adjusting his glasses. “Knowing that you drank the flower’s essence around the time that the mark would have developed, I wanted to test whether or not Roderick absorbed some of its magic with a simple reveal spell. Then when I saw how weak you were, I stretched it to Mabel, too. As I guessed, it seems that they both have magical properties, though Roderick’s is stronger because of his birthmark.”

“That doesn’t explain why I feel so weak, though,” Caskey said, wrapping herself in another blanket.

Stanford’s face fell and he looked away. “Well, you were cured because of the flower’s magic flowing through you. When the twins were born, they literally sucked the magic out of you. Now it’s all flowing through them, an unlimited supply that now feeds off of their life forces. Unfortunately, this means that you no longer have the flower’s healing in you.”

“What?!” Stanley cried indignantly. He marched up to his brother, trying to meet his gaze. “Tell me there’s a way to reverse this or something! Maybe take some magic from Roderick and put it back into Caskey?”

Stanford shifted Roderick to one arm, holding his free hand up to Stanley’s face. “I’m afraid it’s irreversible. The twins could eventually transfer magic to her willingly, but we can’t force it. On the bright side, we can use their magic until they’re old enough! Remember the spell I tested on us before we gave her the flower?”

Stanley paused to think. “The spell… Oh yeah! But that one’s for youth, right?”

“Right!” Stanford agreed excitedly, glad that someone was finally on the same page as him. “However, I do know a spell similar to it for healing! All she needs to do is hold them and have someone recite it.”

The elder twins hastily placed the babies into Caskey’s open arms and stepped back. Stanford whipped out his journal, thumbing through the pages before stopping on one. His eyes scanned the page quickly, then glanced back over to his niece.

“Are you ready?” Receiving a nod, Stanford began to read the incantation aloud.

_“Laeh tahw sah neeb truh,_

_Egnahc eht ‘Setaf ngised._

_Evas tahw sah neeb tsol,_

_Gnirb kcab tahw ecno saw enim.”_

Both Stans looked back to their niece, smiles coming to their faces. The spell had lulled the queen to sleep, both babies nestled against her.

“When she wakes up, she’ll be better,” Stanford reassured, snapping his journal shut and tucking it back into his coat. “It would probably be best to do this once every day or two.” Straightening his clothes, he walked toward the door.

“How long do you think she might need us here?”

Stanford paused and turned back to his brother, who remained at Caskey’s bedside. Stanley gingerly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, smiling gently.

“It’s hard to say,” Stanford replied carefully. “The incantation is only a temporary fix, and even then she might relapse without the magic constantly flowing through her. If she starts to get better, though, we may be able to leave her within a year or two.” He raised a brow at Stanley’s expression. “Why the sudden concern?”

“What do you mean?” Stanley huffed. “You’re the one who’s had me at her bedside for the past half year; you think I’m not going to get attached? Besides, like you said, we’re the only family she has left.”

Stanford’s eyes widened at his brother’s response. Admittedly, he did not anticipate such an earnest answer. He chuckled, punching his twin’s shoulder playfully. “You’re getting soft, Lee.”

Stanley rolled his eyes, punching his brother back. “And you’re getting nerdier, Sixer.”


	2. Prologue (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The much anticipated second part of the prologue!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Doo-doodle-le-doo, posting part two of the prologue, still freaking out over the finale, la-da-da-de-da~

“Whoa there!” Stanford tugged on the reins of his horse, the animal braking to a halt right before his destination. He dismounted gracefully, pulling an apple from one of the many pockets in his coat and slipping it between the horse’s teeth.

“I’ll be back soon,” he promised, petting the animal’s head gently. He secured her to the wooden post outside before waltzing up the steps and entering the establishment.

Gnasty’s was a gnome-run tavern, a hub for forest-dwellers. By day it was just a run-of-the-mill diner, serving food to satisfy the tastes of any clientele. At night it became more of a club scene, the unicorns using their magical horns to play music and put on light shows. It was a bit rowdy for Ford’s liking, but he did manage to meet some interesting regulars there.

“Table for two, please,” he told the owner, a somewhat obnoxious gnome by the name of Jeff.

“Why? I don’t see a date there, Six-fingers,” Jeff snorted, but he led the man to a table in the corner. He handed Ford a menu and some cutlery, leaving a second menu in front of the seat opposite him.

“Thank you,” Stanford stated politely, the gnome taking his cue and leaving. Ford ran a hand through his hair as he looked over the menu, hoping for some new additions. It had been awhile since he’d last visited the restaurant, Caskey’s illness and the twins’ births keeping him busy.

“You made it!” a voice cheered, smile evident in its tone.

Ford glanced up from his menu to find the other menu upright opposite him, a head of wavy rose-colored hair peeking up at him from behind it. Star giggled when he saw her, lowering her menu to reveal her beaming face.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so giddy,” Stanford chuckled, taking her hand and kissing the back of it gently.

“I’m just excited to see you! It’s been forever!” Star clasped her hand around his, trying to convey all of her emotions through the touch. Ford was overwhelmed by the worry and fear that had consumed her during his absence, clutching her hand more firmly.

“Hey, stop that,” he ordered softly, rubbing circles onto her hand with his thumb. “I’m here now, and everything’s alright. You helped save my niece, you know!”

Star looked at their joined hands with a smile, bringing her other hand up to hold his free hand. “I know how much she means to you, I couldn’t just let her die. But if she’s better now, where have you been?”

“Well, it’s still a very delicate situation.” Ford chose his words carefully, describing the events of the past two months. Star listened intently, asking a question or two of her own as he went on.

“Wow,” she finally breathed when he was finished. “That’s definitely a doozy!”

“Now you see my conflict,” he agreed. “I’m sorry that I haven’t been able to see you sooner.”

Star nodded, picking her menu up again. They lapsed into silence, the waiter coming to take their orders and bring them some water the only breaks. Finally, Star looked at him seriously.

“Stanford, I have something urgent to tell you.”

Ford was startled by the sudden declaration, but seeing the burning gaze in Star’s pink irises, he gave her his full attention.

“You’re in danger. That day that we retrieved the flower… there was this man lurking in the shadows. His intentions were definitely threatening, but he didn’t try anything because I was with you. Now, though, I’m almost certain that he’ll come after you, and possibly your family, too.”

Stanford took a second to digest the information, hoping that Star was pulling some sick joke. He felt his stomach turn when her expression didn’t falter, his appetite weakening. “Okay, that’s definitely not good… But you wouldn’t have told me without having a plan, so let’s hear it.”

“Run away with me.”

Ford choked on his water. That certainly wasn’t what he’d expected to hear. “E-Excuse me?”

Star’s face softened and she slipped her hands into his again. “I know how much your family means to you, but this madman is after you. The best way to protect them is to leave.”

Stanford frowned at their joined hands. “Star, you’re not making sense. Why should I abandon my family when it seems they’ll need me the most?” The prospect of it all seemed too irrational, especially for his usually quick-witted girlfriend.

“Because I love you, damn it!”

The dining room fell silent, the scarce patrons present startled from their small talk by the fierce declaration. All eyes fell on the bickering couple.

Stanford resisted the urge to curl in on himself at the attention, squaring his shoulders and giving Star a firm look. “I care about you, too, but that’s not enough reason to abandon everything that I have here.”

“What about what we have? Is that not enough for you?” There were tears in Star’s eyes, a sight that Ford had never beheld. He watched with stunned eyes as the roots of her usually pink hair darkened to a gentle blue, the color steadily creeping to her tips. Her face paled slightly, adopting a faint blue tint as well.

“Star…” He had no idea how to let her down. He was terrified of the reaction that he might trigger, and he really did care about her.

Ford stepped around the table to pull his girlfriend into a hug, a hand gently stroking her hair. He glared at their audience, annoyed at how weak Star was being portrayed. Two of his favorite qualities were her strength and confidence, both of which he seemed to have diluted with his refusal.

“I love you, Star, but I also love my family. Please don’t make me choose between you.” He spoke softly, fingers still running through blue strands. It was clear that whatever premonition Star had received had left her very distraught.

Suddenly, her head shot up, her eyes blue and cheeks stained with tear streaks. “Do you value them over your life?” she asked quietly, face dead serious.

Ford spluttered at the question. _Maybe he wasn’t taking this seriously enough?_ Still, he knew that he couldn’t abandon his family. He sighed, giving her a firm look. “I do.”

And he believed it. He would gladly lay his life down for any of the members resting in the palace, even his knuckleheaded brother. The veiled threat greatly concerned him, but he wouldn’t run like a coward.

A sob broke past Star’s trembling lips, her entire being shaking. She pulled away from Ford, wrapping her arms around herself. He stood back, hands at his sides awkwardly.

“Fine,” she finally murmured still not facing him. “Stay with your stupid family, see if I care!” She whirled around, her hair igniting into scarlet as she did, eyes aflame in the same brilliant color. The remaining customers in the tavern were quick to evacuate, Jeff and his staff retreating to the kitchen.

Ford choked down a gulp of air as she glared at him. Her heels clicked menacingly as she pressed an accusatory finger into Stanford’s chest.

“I poured my heart out to you Stanford Pines! I risked everything to help you get that damn flower! I helped you with your stupid fucking journals! Do you _know_ how much trouble I could get into for that?! And still, you don’t trust me!”

Ford’s eyes widened, his hands shooting up. “Wait a minute, Star! This has nothing to do with trust; there has to be another way! Let’s figure this out together!”

Star shook her head, tears still dripping from her lashes. “It’s not just this, Ford! I’ve been trying to reach out to you for the past six months, and nothing! I couldn’t even feel you through our empathy link – do you know how terrifying that is? Your life is on the line and you still won’t listen to me!”

She burst into a hysterical sob, wrapping her arms around herself again. Her hair began to fade to blue again. “I just feel like I’ll always take a backseat to your family now,” she mumbled, sitting in her seat again.

Ford ran a hand through his hair, completely overwhelmed and dumbfounded by the emotional waves rushing through their link. _How had he been so neglectful?_ He recalled shutting her out during the first month of Caskey’s recovery, then again around the time of the twins’ birth, and it suddenly hit him that he hadn’t even missed the demon. Sure, he thought about her from time to time, but he’d never had the urge to see her, or the desire to drop everything and run to her. Of course, if she had been in danger he would’ve rushed to help, but he knew that she was very capable on her own, and she had her brother to keep her company.

He shook his head, focusing on their situation now. He had no idea of how to rationally discuss anything with Star when she was in that state, nor did he understand how to transition out of it. He certainly didn’t want to say anything to further damage their relationship, but at this point he didn’t even know what was salvageable.

“Star,” he finally whispered, coming to a resolution that would make or break them. The distraught demon didn’t look at him, but quieted enough to let him know that she was listening. “This isn’t an easy conclusion for me to draw, and I’m certain that you won’t like it, but-”

“You think that we should take a break,” Star finished, her voice hollow and quiet.

Ford bit his lip, nodding solemnly. “Please, blame no one but myself for this. I’ve been very neglectful toward you, and you deserve much better. But at this point in time, I need to be with my family. I hope that once you cool off you’ll understand, and that after this is over we can be together again.”

He contemplated his next move for a second before throwing caution to the wind, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to the top of Star’s head. “I love you,” he mumbled, stroking the silky waves one more time before taking his leave. He heard her cry out behind him, wincing as the door shut her out.

* * *

 

Three months later, when the queen deemed the twins old enough, a ceremony was held to introduce them to the kingdom. Alongside her two uncles, Queen Caskey stepped out onto the grand balcony overlooking Gravity Falls, a baby in each arm. Mabel immediately stirred from her slumber at the raucous applause they received, large brown eyes peering out at the crowd. Roderick remained asleep until he was passed to Stanford, lazily looking up at his great-uncle before becoming aware of their audience.

Stanley happily took Mabel from his niece, lifting her high enough to see the cheering townspeople over the railing. Mabel gave a bright toothless grin in response to the praise.

Flanked by her uncles, Caskey stepped up to the front of the balcony, where a pair of lanterns sat on a pedestal, tethered to the ground by ribbons. A gleeful smile lighting up her delicate features, the queen reached for the lanterns, grin widening when a small hand touched each of hers.

Mabel and Roderick stared at the lanterns with great curiosity, tapping their mother’s hands to get closer. Caskey raised a lantern to each of them, trusting Stanford and Stanley to supervise them around the flames.

As if coordinated through telepathy, Roderick and Mabel released the lanterns at the same time, cooing as they watched them rise up into the cloudless sky.

Hundreds of lanterns followed as the entire kingdom rejoiced for their new prince and princess. Stanford and Stanley had their hands full with containing the two, who climbed all over them trying to get closer to the floating lights.

Caskey beamed at her babies with pride, a single tear running down her cheeks. “If only Robert could see them,” she whispered, clutching to her golden locket.

Sensing her pain, Stanley hurried to her side, placing a giggling Mabel in her arms and wrapping a free arm around her shoulder. Stanford followed a moment later, holding Roderick close to her and rubbing her back soothingly. Caskey relaxed, comforted by the small family that she was able to call her own.

Unbeknownst to the happy quintet, a sinister figure was approaching, hell bent on revenge.

* * *

 

“Goodnight, my lady, see you in the morning.” The servant excused herself from the bedroom, a tray tucked beneath her arm.

Caskey waved as she left before turning to the crib. Having only expected one child, she’d only had one crib prepared. As soon as Roderick popped out, she’d ordered a second one to be built. By the time it was finished, however, the twins had become so comfortable with sharing one bed that they refused to sleep separately. She could still recall the restless crying they’d made when they couldn’t feel each other’s presence.

Just as she reached to scoop the twins up, the door opened, Stanford and Stanley slipping inside.

“Don’t you two ever knock?” she teased, laughing as Mabel giggled at her joke.

“Oh please, knocking wastes too much time,” Stanley snorted, picking up one of the bottles from the nightstand and reaching for the baby girl. Caskey gently handed her over, watching Stan settle into one of the armchairs and slip the nipple of the bottle into the baby’s mouth.

She turned to Stanford, who waited silently with a small smile and open arms for the other twin. She gratefully deposited Roderick into Ford’s hands, walking back to sit on her bed. “So, what’s the verdict?”

Stanford took up the chair opposite his brother, facing the two adults with a grim face as he began to feed the baby in his arms. “I’m afraid there isn’t much good news to tell. The forest dwellers are getting antsy without me there; I’ve received word from my contact-”

“He means his demon girlfriend,” Stanley interjected with a sly smirk and a wiggle of his eyebrows.

Caskey shot the elder twin a scandalous look, to which the man responded with a blush and a bitter grumble of, “It’s not like that!” He whispered something else under his breath, magically launching a nearby book at Stanley’s head.

“Ford! Not while he’s holding my baby!” Caskey scolded.

“Sorry, sorry,” Stanford quickly apologized. “Anyway, according to my contact, _Fiddleford_ -” he shot his brother a pointed look “-there have been a few violations of the new treaty by some Gravity Falls residents on the outskirts of town. Some supernatural beings are looking to retaliate. He also told me that there has been an increase in supernatural participation of crime, though whether this has anything to do with the treaty being broken or not has yet to be confirmed. He’s doing the best he can to keep things at bay, but there is a lot of unrest.”

Caskey rubbed at her eyes wearily. “Okay, so you need to get back there soon. How about you, Stanley? How are our ambassadors fairing?”

“Unfortunately, they have their hands full with requests to visit you or for you to visit them. A lot of diplomats feel that they’ve lost touch with Gravity Falls because of the past year that you’ve been on bedrest and I was here caring for you. I’d recommend we arrange some sort of social gathering for them here, but I’m not sure if that’s in _your_ best interest.”

As if to solidify his point, Caskey fell into a coughing fit, her hacking drawing the attention of her babies. Mabel and Roderick began whining, reaching for their mother. Caskey gulped down the glass of water at her bedside, falling onto her sheets tiredly.

“I think it’s time for a recharge,” Stanford observed. He and Stanley stood and brought the twins to their mother. Mabel and Roderick easily snuggled up to their mother, who wrapped them up in her arms.

 _“Laeh tahw sah neeb truh,”_ Stanford began to recite. Roderick’s birthmark immediately responded to the incantation, lighting up along with his eyes.

_“Egnahc eht ‘Setaf ngised._

_Evas tahw sah neeb tsol,_

_Gnirb kcab tahw ecno saw enim.”_

Caskey sighed as the magic flowed through her, a content smile on her face. Roderick and Mabel had fallen asleep, and Stanford and Stanley were quick to pick them up and return them to their crib.

“You should get some rest, too,” Stanley advised, patting Caskey’s shoulder as they passed. “We’ll be out in the halls, as always, if you need us.”

“Thanks Lee, Ford,” Caskey nodded, punctuating the sentiment with a yawn. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” the elder twins returned, slipping out of the room silently.

“I can’t believe that it’s already been six months!” Stanley sighed, running a hand through his hair. The twins were maturing rather quickly, already beginning to make noises that sounded vaguely like mimicked words.

“I know,” the elder twin agreed. “It’s pretty crazy. I’m worried about our neglected duties, though. The last thing that we want is something snowballing right under our noses – especially with how vulnerable this family is right now.”

Stanley nodded solemnly. While it was fun to just enjoy being a family, his brother was right. They still had jobs to fulfill for the kingdom; things couldn’t stay this way forever.

Stanford caught his brother’s misery, patting his back with a laugh. “Oh, relax Lee, embrace the present! We’ll get back to our duties eventually, but enjoy the moments we have now. Come on, security isn’t going to run itself!”

“Standard procedure?” Stanley asked, perking up.

“Standard procedure,” Stanford agreed. “It’s your turn tonight.”

“Roger that,” Stanley saluted. He watched his brother march regally down the hall before taking his position at the door.

While he liked being able to guard his family closely, security detail was always such a bore at night. He and Ford hadn’t been doing it initially, but with crime on the rise, they’d agreed on rotating nights of patrolling the main hall and Caskey’s bedroom. Fiddleford would oversee the guards outside. They barely slept anymore because of it, but it was a price both were willing to pay.

“Aww, that’s a very nice sentiment – you guarding your family like that,” a voice drawled from the shadows. It held a backcountry accent, characteristic of the citizens who lived toward the outskirts of the kingdom.

“Who goes there?” Stanley called, drawing his sword warily. His eyes scanned the dark hallway, and he could feel sweat bead along the back of his neck. “Reveal yourself or I’ll attack!”

His threat was returned with an eerie silence. Suddenly, a cloud of pink powder blurred his vision, a merry cry of “peek-a-boo!” the last thing he heard before the room spun and he fell to the floor.

* * *

 

“Hmmm, that was almost too easy!” Gideon snickered, tucking the sack of fairy dust away in his belt. He was impressed that his cloaking spell was holding up for such a long time; it typically would’ve expired by then.

Ensuring that the bag was secure and no other beings were present, the man cracked the grand doors open, peering inside. Gentle snores greeted him, and after determining that there was no movement, he slipped through the gap.

Quietly, he began reciting an incantation that he’d found through his research in the library. _“Cigam, laever flesruoy ot em!”_

A soft glow flickered from the crib, growing stronger and brighter as he continued chanting. Gideon approached slowly, careful to avoid anything that could potentially create sound. Upon reaching the bed, he drew the sheets back to reveal the prince and princess of Gravity Falls, eyes alight with power. The girl’s hair mirrored the golden glow, as did the boy’s strange birthmark. _Strange birthmark…?_

Gideon’s baby blues widened as he reached into his cloak and whipped one of his books out. He quickly thumbed through the pages, stopping with a small gasp when he reached the desired page. There, inked in black and white, was the very same constellation. The text noted that markings related to the heavens were incredible sources of energy and magic.

Gideon’s smirk stretched from ear to ear. An unlimited power supply that he could draw from whenever he needed it! All he’d have to do is find the right spell…

“Meh?”

Gideon jumped at the small sound. His eyes focused on the girl, likely woken by the magic he’d stirred in her. Oddly enough, her brother was still asleep, but that wasn’t of much concern compared to the little noisemaker he had on his hands now.

“Shh!” he hushed, shooting the infant a stern glare. She cocked her head at him, reaching out with her small fingers. “No! Bad baby!” he whispered urgently, shooting anxious glances at the bed.

“Dah!”

“Ah shit!” Gideon groaned, slapping a palm to his forehead as the other twin woke. He was itching to use the powder to knock them out, too, but it would be a great risk considering their youth and delicate immune systems. Sure, they were magic, _but was that a risk that he was willing to take?_

“Shhheger bleh!” Mabel gurgled excitedly, patting her brother’s cheeks.

“Eeeehhhh!” Dipper complained, swatting at his sister’s intrusive fingers.

 _Oh yes, it was definitely a risk worth taking_ , Gideon decided, blowing a smaller cloud of the pink substance at them. Almost instantly, they fell silent, nearly inaudible snores falling from their open mouths.

Gideon shot an anxious glance back to the bed, a relieved sigh escaping his lips at the still form of the resting queen. Acting quickly, he scanned the room, finding a large basket near the fireplace. Tapping into the power of his gemstone, he lifted the basket and emptied its contents onto the carpet before drawing it closer.

He stole a pillow from the open closet door and stuffed it into the basket, laying the babies onto it a moment later. As an afterthought, he snatched the blanket from their crib and tucked them in, ensuring that if the ride got a little bumpy they’re be secure.

Hooking the basket over his arm, he strode to the balcony, shutting the grand doors behind himself as silently as possible. They were four stories up, no trouble for his magic. He could feel the masking spell slipping, though.

Once he and the basket were safely on the ground, he bolted for the gates. Just as he’d predicted, someone sounded an alarm, shuffling sounding from every corner.

“Almost… there…” he panted. He really should’ve used the youth spell before taking them. He could feel his joints ache, mumbling small pain-killing chants. He caught sight of a pair of guards racing to close the gates, but even they could tell that they were too slow.

Slipping through the opening, Gideon didn’t stop until he reached the cover of the forest. Chest heaving, he placed the basket on the ground gently, slipping the hood of his cloak off of his white hair.

“Stop!” a familiar voice shouted. The sharp sound of a sword being drawn pierced the air.

Despite the danger of the situation, Gideon smirked. This was the man he’d been hoping to run into. He tugged his hood back up, determination set in his eyes.

“Admiral Stanford Pines,” he crooned, whirling around to face the man. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Stanford didn’t seem flattered by the pleasantries, whispering something that made his blade glow red. “You’ve stolen some things that don’t belong to you, and I’ve come to retrieve them,” the man answered gruffly, eyeing the basket.

“Stolen some things…” Gideon repeated in a contemplative tone, tapping his chin with one finger. His idle hand clutched his gemstone behind his back. While it was powerful on its own, it did drain magic from him, which he was currently running low on. He knew of a method that worked in theory, but had never tested it out. _Was he desperate enough to try it now?_

“Stall all you want, felon! The guards are right behind me!” Stanford shouted, face red with rage. He took a step forward, brandishing his weapon confidently. “Do us all a favor and surrender now!”

“No way, Pines!” Gideon spat, voice adopting a sinister undertone. His fingers dug into the gemstone, and he could feel its power meld to his, running through his veins. It burned; he’d only be able to hold it for a couple of minutes.

Through the haze he heard Stanford’s startled yelp, the thud of his sword falling to the dirt, and the rustling of pages. His vision was blurred by a teal filter, but he managed to make out the younger man’s form, lenses reflecting the light cast by his magic.

Stanford shot him a determined look, reading an incantation off of a page. “ _Cigam eb enog-_ ”

Recognizing the spell as a block, Gideon quickly knocked Stanford off of his feet, disrupting him before he could finish. He smirked at the pained expression the other wore as he rubbed his bottom. Tapping into his magic, the white-haired man levitated, hovering over the royal.

“You gave me quite a bit of trouble, taking my flower and destroying it,” Gideon growled in that echoing voice. “Then again, I should thank you. Now I have two little flowers.”

Noticing Stanford scrambling to get up, Gideon pinned him down with an invisible, but very tangible, fist. “Whoa there, Pines! You can’t leave yet! I’ve been saving this spell for this very moment!”

It was true. He’d been plotting his revenge for almost a year now, and his plans were finally about to come to fruition!

_“Otni a esroh I nmednoc eeht. A etaf taht llahs dnats litnu eht srieh nruter. Dnim taht yeht ton eb decrof. Yeht tsum eb kcab ot yats.”_

Gideon observed with wide eyes as the man beneath him was engulfed in teal flames. Stanford screamed as his entire body contorted, his back hunching over and his limbs elongating. Gideon bit his lip, feeling power drain from his being as the transformation ensued.

“Please!” Stanford cried, eyes squeezed shut. He cried out again, but it cut off and turned into a hoarse whinny, his throat presumably scratchy from his screams.

Gideon backed away as the shift seemed to draw to a close. He lowered himself to the ground, watching the scene intently. Finally, the flames died down, leaving in their wake a smoking animal curled up in the fetal position. A pair of glasses and the discarded journal were the only remnant of the horse’s true form.

A platinum mane stretched across a burgundy coat, resembling the man’s trademark outfit. The horse was heavily built; _he could easily rival the palace horses_ …

Gideon’s satisfied grin stretched further. Using the last of his fused magic, he conjured up a collar similar to those that the palace horses wore. As the horse finally stirred, he strode over to it and latched the tag around its neck.

“Listen up, _Admiral_ , you’ve been demoted,” Gideon leered. “Here’s the gist: You will now serve as the remaining royal family’s horse. No one will know who you really are, and that’s how it’ll stay. Unfortunately, I cannot turn you into a horse permanently, _yet_ , but you’ll never fulfill the condition that I’ve set.”

He moved to leave, but a reflected light stopped him in his tracks. Gideon’s blue eyes sparkled when they spied Journal 2 laid out on the grass where Ford had dropped it. “Well, what do we have here?”

Stanford released a disgruntled sound, baring his teeth at the man. That was all the motivation Gideon needed, snatching the book up with a self-righteous smirk. “Last I checked, horses have no need for material possessions such as journals,” he stated condescendingly. “Allow me to take this off your hands, or should I say ‘hooves’?”

With an obnoxious chuckle, Gideon spun around and scooped the basket up, humming a tune as he strode confidently away. He heard Stanford scramble to get to his feet, laughing as he heard the unsteady hooves give out and drop the horse back onto the ground.

* * *

 

The kingdom woke in a panic the following day, the news of the missing heirs and admiral sending the sensitive citizens into a frenzy. Stanley had ordered a full sweep of the entire kingdom, closing the ports and having every ship searched inside and out. No nook or cranny was left untouched, and yet there was no sign of his missing family.

Stanford had been found wandering outside of the gates, a note attached to his collar addressing him to the royal family. Stanley had been highly suspicious of the apparent present, but Caskey had openly accepted it, commenting idly that he resembled Stanford.

She and Stanley had held a lantern ceremony after a week of fruitless searching. As much as they wanted to continue, tensions were rising along the borders of the forest with the seeming death of their ambassador. The queen was forced to cut down the search party to a few troops, which gradually diminished as the months drew on.

Without her sources of healing, the queen deteriorated as time stretched on, too. Stanley had done his best to use Stanford’s extensive research to stave death off, but it eventually enveloped the queen two years later.

The sole heir to the throne, Stanley took the crown in her place. He refused to give up hope that his family was still out there, holding a lavish lantern ceremony every year on June 18, the day of the twins’ birth, in the hope of drawing them out.

Meanwhile, in a small tower hidden away in an alcove of the forest, Gideon raised the twins himself. He started out as a father-figure to them, but that slowly degenerated into an adoptive brother vibe as the children matured. He doted on Mabel, almost incapable of denying her anything. He held a bit of disdain toward Dipper, envious of his power and the close relationship he had to his sister. Nevertheless, he tried his best to be a fair guardian, only imposing a few rules: no entering his private study unsupervised, no practicing magic unsupervised, and absolutely no leaving the tower.

While his laws were restricting, that didn’t discourage inherent curiosity – on the contrary, it only made them antsier. They knew that there was a great big world to discover, and once they got the chance they’d start with the floating lights.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I already have the next two chapters written, so I'll be posting the next one later in the week! Later, kiddos!


	3. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dipper has a weirder dream than usual, Mabel demonstrates her impressive seamstress skills, and Gideon's a real douche.

_He was falling. That wasn’t very surprising – his dreams always led to this. No matter how it began, he always managed to stumble or dive into a deep abyss. The air around him was dense, like he was sinking through black ink. For all he knew, he was. There were no boundaries; no end. The dream usually lasted for a few more minutes before he’d wake up. On occasion, he’d receive a nice scare from a sinister figure, or a gut-wrenching panic from witnessing something happen to his sister. Once in a blue moon, he’d actually die in the dream, though the realness of the experience would leave him questioning his reality when he finally came to._

_This dream was slightly different from the norm. He supposed it was because of his upcoming birthday; perhaps his schizophrenic subconscious had arranged something special for the week._

_He stared hard into the blackness caressing his face, nearly choking when it parted to reveal an almond-shaped eye. The iris was gold, its pupil dilated in the dark. It returned his gaze attentively, blinking lazily every few seconds. It was worth noting that he was still falling, the eye keeping pace with him, though its motion was discrete._

_He involuntarily opened his mouth, uncertain of what he was going to say, when another eye popped up to his right. This one held a pink hue to it, and rather than simply watch him like the first, it glared daggers at him. Not a full three seconds passed before a third sprouted to his left, blue and apathetic in its observation of him._

_All was silent as he continued to fall through the black under the gaze of three eyeballs with different intentions. About two minutes of this elapsed before smaller eyes began budding up all around him, dozens per second. They were all composed of the same colors as the three large ones. The eyes locked onto him, practically engulfing him in their stares._

_He was suddenly aware of his sister’s voice shouting his name urgently from far above. He tried to look up for her, to see if he could catch sight of where he’d fallen from, but all he could see were eyes. The voice was persistent, though, echoing around him and causing the eyes to wince at the increasing volume._

“Diiiiiiiipppper! Wake up, bro bro!”

Dipper cried out, flailing as he was ripped out of his dream. As his senses flooded him, he became aware of hands gripping his shoulders tightly. The glorious smell of pancakes wafted through the air, his mouth watering and stomach grumbling the same sentiment.

“Whoa! Easy there, Dip!” The hands steadied him, waiting patiently for him to relax. Dipper focused on calming down, inhaling slowly and trying to purge the dream from his mind. After a couple of minutes, he managed to sit up and slip the hands from his shoulders.

“I’m okay now,” he assured, smiling softly up at his sister. “Thanks, Mabel.”

The brunette’s lips returned the expression, but her eyes were still searching. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Dipper bit his lip, eyes looking anywhere but at the honey orbs staring at him. It wasn’t that he didn’t feel like sharing; he’d told her about the falling dream that often woke him up, as well as many others. The problem with this one was that he just didn’t know how to go about describing it.

Mabel caught his apprehension and backed away understandingly. She hopped off of the bed and gave her brother a bright grin. “Don’t worry about it, Dip. Whatever it was can’t bother you anymore. Now get up, your breakfast is getting cold!”

Mabel’s hands slipped into Dipper’s larger ones, and she easily hoisted him onto his feet. Something about her strength had to be supernatural!

As she skipped off to the kitchen, long hair audibly dragging behind her, Dipper snatched a red shirt from the growing pile in the corner. A quick sniff determined that it would do for the day, and he quickly tugged it over his head. He repeated the process for a pair of pants, then slipped into a pair of shoes, making a mental note to do laundry later.

Grabbing his current book from his desk, he strode out of his room and into the kitchen, only to find Mabel kneeling on the countertop and trying to cram herself into one of the cabinets.

“Um, Mabel? Need some help there?” he quipped, resting the hardcover on the table. He approached her carefully, honestly curious of her motive.

“Shh!” Mabel shot back, still scrambling to fit into the small space. After another minute of grunting and disapproving creaks from the cabinets, she pulled her head back out to address him. “I’m playing hide and seek with Waddles. Think you can give me a boost?”

“Why the cabinets?” Dipper groaned, moving to hoist her up anyway. “Especially _those_ cabinets?” He nodded his head toward the perfectly spacious cabinets along the ground.

“Pssh, Waddles hid in those the last round,” she dismissed with a wave of her hand. “Besides, there’s no way he’d find me up here! Victory is in the bag!”

Dipper tuned out the last part, opting to focus on the statement regarding the pig in the cabinet with their dishes. He was suddenly very concerned for his health.

“Don’t worry about that, Dippo, we’re magic, remember?” Mabel pointed out calmly, as if reading his thoughts. For all he knew, she had; they were constantly discovering new uses for their magic.

Dipper shrugged, not harboring the patience to fight a losing battle. Instead, he braced his hands on Mabel’s hips and lifted her into the cabinet, helping her tuck her legs in when she turned around. The real challenge was her hair – all ninety feet of it. Knowing that she wouldn’t let him go until it was all hidden away, the brunet began the tedious process of balling up armfuls of the silky waves and depositing them in her lap.

“Thank you very much,” she sang when he finished, pulling the cabinet doors in on herself. “Don’t tell Waddles where I am!” she ordered quickly before sealing the doors completely.

Dipper rolled his eyes, collecting his book and seating himself in front of the short stack of pancakes at the dinner table. He frowned, realizing that Mabel had not only cooked alone, but also eaten. His dream must’ve been longer than he’d thought.

He sighed, grabbing the pot of syrup and drizzling some onto his breakfast. As the first piece of pancake fell off of his fork and onto his tongue, he felt a warm mass rub against his leg.

“Good morning, Waddles,” he greeted, reaching a hand down to pat the piglet’s fuzzy head. Waddles leaned into the touch, snuffling in approval.

He stroked the animal’s head until he scampered off, no doubt in pursuit of his owner. Dipper dutifully ignored the clattering of objects being turned over, picking up the book and thumbing to the page he’d left off on. When Waddles returned to nudge at his chair, he didn’t spare the piglet a glance, gesturing in the general direction of the kitchen.

About five minutes later, he heard Mabel’s dejected cry as Waddles squealed at her from the countertop directly below her hiding place. “Darn it, Dipper! You ratted me out, didn’t you?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he replied, eyes focused on the text.

There was some shuffling, then a loud bang that Dipper deduced to be the cabinet door slamming against another. “Hey bro bro, I could use a hand here!”

“You got yourself up there, you can get yourself down.”

“But I didn’t get myself up here alone!” Mabel whined.

Any other time, Dipper would’ve rushed to help her down, but he was fixated on the passage he was reading. He didn’t even hear the thud of his sister dropping to the ground, nor did he catch her sneaking up behind him, dragging hair and all.

“Whatcha readin’?” she crooned, head resting on his shoulder.

Dipper wasn’t even fazed. “It’s one of Gideon’s books,” he answered shortly, flipping to the next page.

Mabel predictably gasped. “Dipper, you know you’re not supposed to go into Gideon’s library! Don’t you remember what he did the last time he caught you?”

Concluding the section, Dipper sighed, snapping the book shut. “Why does it matter? The guy hates me – we all know it!” He was slightly relieved when Mabel didn’t try to cut in with a rebuttal. “Besides, why does he even have a library here? He only ever visits twice a week to use our magic and deliver fresh food! It’s like he’s trying to find a plausible reason to punish me!” _And maybe that was the case._

“Dipper, I’m sure Gideon loves us! Why else would he continue to come back and feed us?”

“Did I not just say ‘to use our magic,’ because I thought I made it pretty clear?” Dipper snapped, frowning a second later at Mabel’s downtrodden expression.

“Hey, I’m sorry,” he hurriedly apologized, wrapping an arm around his sister’s shoulders. “I guess I’m just jealous of all of the attention he gives you.”

He heard Mabel sniffle and instantly felt awful. While he was fairly certain that Gideon was only using them, he didn’t have any evidence of that. It wasn’t his place to ruin his sister’s view of the only guardian they’d known with his silly suspicions; especially when said guardian showed her so much affection.

He held his sister until she calmed down, an embrace that always gave them comfort. When her shoulders ceased their trembling, he pulled back, giving her a soft smile.

“Hey, have you finished our new clothes, yet? I’m really excited to try mine on!” A change of subject was definitely the right move, Mabel’s eyes instantly alight.

“I’m so glad you reminded me! I’m almost finished with yours, but I need to make some alterations. Hurry up and eat so you can come try it on!”

Dipper turned back to his cold breakfast as his sister skipped out of the room. A giddy smile overtook his features as he thought about their plans. He allowed himself to daydream, not even reacting to the soggy pancakes he shoveled into his mouth.

His eyes followed their paintings on the wall, various renderings of the world outside – or at least, what they knew of it. Most of it was based off of the view from the lone window of their tower. Gideon used it to come and go, using Mabel’s hair as a foothold for climbing as soon as it was long enough. Much of Dipper’s art was based on descriptions he’d read and pictures drawn in the books he’d stolen from their guardian’s study.

The most prominent painting, and definitely the favorite among them both, was the night sky flooded with the floating lights that they’d see every year on their birthday. Deep indigo dotted with bright cream and dandelion orbs, hovering over the pine forest. At the crest of a hill sat two figures, hand in hand, staring up at the spectacle in awe.

He and Mabel had painted the scene together. Both had longed to see the unknown lights up close since they had first wandered to the window and seen the moving orbs from afar. It was a sight that both excited and eluded them, but if all went according to plan, the latter would change in just a few days!

* * *

“Ouch! Mabel, would it be possible for you to maybe not impale me again?” Dipper quipped, wincing as she removed the pin from his side.

“Sorry, bro bro, but you have a bit more muscle in your arms and your waist is thinner than when I last measured you… have you been working out?”

Dipper blushed. So his push-ups and sit-ups were actually paying off. “Maybe a little. I don’t know, maybe we’ll meet some cute strangers along the way.”

Mabel beamed at him. “That’s what I’m counting on! Trust me, Dip, in this getup you’ll get all kinds of attention!”

As Mabel moved to grab some more pins, Dipper admired himself in the full-body mirror opposite him. A sapphire shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows beneath a dark grey vest and tucked into tan pants. He had to admit that the colors complimented his skin and eyes better than he’d thought when he saw it on the mannequin. He glanced over to Mabel’s outfit, draped over another mannequin in the corner. It was an innovative design, a fuchsia jumpsuit with pant legs that fanned out like a dress. A thick purple belt wrapped around its waist, making the piece as elegant as it was versatile. She’d included a matching purple coat for herself, the unfinished garment strewn across a table next to the sewing machine. Designs for additional pieces were scattered along the rest of the tables and chairs.

“I’m working on some extra clothes for us to pack, too, just in case,” she explained, catching his wandering gaze. “Nothing too excessive, and they’ll all be similar, so this should be the only fitting that I’ll have to do.”

Dipper nodded, humming absentmindedly as Mabel finished taking measurements, marking the areas to be hemmed and removing the pins carefully. “Hey, what are we going to do when this is over?”

He hadn’t meant to ask the question, but it slipped out before he could think to close his mouth. It certainly caught Mabel off guard, the brunette frozen in place.

“Huh, I never thought about that…” she murmured. “Unless something happens to change our minds, I guess we come back?”

The thought was depressing, and Dipper desperately wanted to brainstorm a different option, but before he could he was disrupted by a ringing bell.

“Oh Maaaaaaabelllll! Diiiiiiiippeerrrrr!” a soft voice called.

Wide brown eyes met each other, mirroring a panicked expression. “Shit! He’s here early!”

“I’ll change while you pull him up!” Dipper ordered, Mabel nodding before racing out of the room.

He unhooked the vest and shimmied out of the pants, throwing them onto the mannequin. He managed to remove the shirt and pull his pants back on just before he heard Gideon flop through the window. Snatching his shirt off of the chair, he slipped out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind himself.

“Thank you, my dear, that must be so exhausting!” Gideon patted Mabel’s arm as she reeled in the rest of her hair from the window. “You should get your brother to help you every once in a while! Where is that lazy beansprout?”

_Lazy beansprout?_ Dipper frowned to himself as he entered the room, forcing a smile to his lips when Gideon caught sight of him. “Gideon! You’re here earlier than usual!”

The older man had a rather stout figure, punctuated by his large, white pompadour mane. Beside Mabel, he looked a bit worse for wear. He’d learned over the years that Gideon wasn’t as young as he’d seemed, and that as the years went on, he aged quicker. Mabel had used her magic on him earlier that week, yet he was already getting age spots and wrinkles around his eyes and hands.

Gideon regarded him suspiciously, a false smile of his own plastered to his pale face. “Well I just hate leaving my two favorite little ragamuffins alone!”

“Right,” Dipper murmured skeptically. _You have to be on his good side if you’re going to ask!_ Gritting his teeth, Dipper faced his white-haired caregiver again. “Well since you’re here, would you like a recharge?”

Gideon’s grin widened. “Why that sounds lovely, my boy!” He placed the basket that he’d been carrying on the kitchen counter before taking his usual seat, a large wine-colored armchair in the living room. The rich color greatly contrasted his paper white skin and typical light blue attire.

Dipper sat on a stool at his feet, reluctantly taking his wrinkled hands and beginning to recite the incantation they’d been taught at a young age. He swallowed the temptation to test a new spell that he’d read that morning, knowing that Gideon would catch him instantly.

He immediately felt the effects of the spell – a tug in his gut as energy was pulled from his core to his hands, transferring to Gideon through their shared contact. He recalled the first time he’d actually felt this:

_He and Mabel were three years old and toddling around when Gideon came in from his study looking completely drained. He slumped into his chair, calling for the younger of the twins._

_“Dipper, I would like to teach you some magic. Would that be okay?”_

_Dipper eagerly nodded, relating it to the magic he’d seen Gideon work around the tower._

_“Alright, now repeat after me.” Gideon paused to take a labored breath before reciting the youth-restoring spell, breaking every couple of words for Dipper to follow along. It was a laborious process ensuring that he pronounced it correctly, but when the intelligent child finally picked up on it, a great burden was lifted._

_“I want you to practice that with your sister; can you do that for me?” An enthusiastic nod was his reply as he retreated back to his study._

_After the initial adrenaline wore off, Dipper became aware of how unusually tired he was. His fingers still tingled from where Gideon had touched him, and his head was swimming._

Over the years, he’d strengthened his stamina, allowing for greater output before he weakened. Unfortunately, this also allowed for Gideon to drain more out of him at once on some occasions. Fortunately, if the trickling flow of energy was any indication, this wasn’t one of those times.

Mabel spared no time in initiating their plan, sidling up to the seated man with an eager smile. “So, Gideon, Dipper and I have a request.”

Gideon hummed, directing his attention to the brunette. “I’m listening, my sweet.”

“Well, as I’m sure you know, a very important day is coming up,” she began, sharing a genuine smile with her brother.

“Right, right, a very important day, indeed,” Gideon agreed, baby blue eyes darting around. “Er, what might that be?”

“It’s our eighteenth birthday,” Dipper ground out as he finished, releasing the man’s now-softened hands and standing to his feet. “Though you’d know that if you actually cared about us,” he mumbled to himself, rolling his eyes.

“What Dipper means,” Mabel quickly recovered, swatting Dipper’s chest, “is our birthday is in a couple of days, and we know exactly what we would like!”

Gideon raised a brow at that, gesturing for them to continue.

The twins exchanged an apprehensive look before blurting out in unison: “We’d like to see the floating lights!”

Gideon’s expression quickly morphed to one of confusion. “Floating lights? Oh, do you mean the stars?”

“Not quite,” Mabel disagreed, nodding to her brother.

Dipper was across the room, standing beside a section of the wall that was less illuminated. He conjured a small ball of light, sending it up to the rafters. Light poured onto a full chart of stars and constellations that stretched across the ceiling. He also shone some light on the wall directly behind him, the portrait of Mabel and him seated under the orbs of light. “As you can see here, Mabel and I have charted the patterns of the stars with regard to the seasons and the times of day. But these particular lights don’t follow the same pattern, not to mention that they are much larger and brighter.”

“In fact, they only seem to appear once a year on our birthday,” Mabel added, moving to join her brother. “And we can’t help but feel that it’s not a coincidence.”

Gideon scoffed, but Dipper picked up on the way that he shifted subtly. “Oh please, they’re just a bunch of lights. Not everything has to be so dramatic.”

“But we still want to see them!” Mabel protested.

“Gideon, we’re almost eighteen, and there’s two of us,” Dipper argued. “Not to mention that we’re magic and you trained us in basic self-defense.”

“Please?”

Gideon sighed, rubbing at his temples. “Look, I hate to be the bad guy here, you two know that, but you’re just not ready to take on the world. There’s nothing out there that you can’t find here. I’m just trying to protect you, saplings.”

Mabel was hesitant to dispute against that, but Dipper sensed the false modesty. “Protect us from what? _Protecting and holding captive are two completely different things!"_

That comment seemed to enrage Gideon to inexplicable levels. Before Dipper could react, an invisible hand was wrapped around his throat.

“Can you protect yourself from this, boy?” the man hissed, clenching his fist tighter. “We’re not the only magic users around, you know. What if someone were to attack you like this?”

Dipper gasped for air, futilely trying to clutch at the force exerting pressure on his windpipe. All thought escaped him, with the exception of ‘ _NEED MORE AIR!’_ As much as he hated to concede, Gideon had a point there.

“Dipper!” Mabel’s cry startled Gideon out of his rage-induced fit, and he quickly released the brunet. Dipper dropped to his hands and knees, choking as his lungs were flooded with air.

“I-I’m sorry. I thought you were going to defend yourself,” Gideon mumbled, retreating to the kitchen while Mabel knelt by Dipper’s side. “But I hope you see my point; there are people out there even more powerful than me who may want to do you harm. I keep you two hidden here for your safety. There are rumors of a second war brewing, and I don’t need my precious flowers mixed up in that. And don’t even think about asking me to accompany you because the answer will still be ‘no’. You’re not allowed to leave this tower. Do you understand?”

Dipper sat up with Mabel’s help, focused on inhaling slow, deep breaths. He shared a quick look with his sister – it seemed as though they’d have to settle for Plan B.

“We understand,” Dipper mumbled, voice a bit hoarse. “We’re – I am – sorry.”

The apology seemed to appease their guardian, the man nodding with a small smile before turning to the basket that he’d brought in. He began unpacking various ingredients, claiming to be making their favorite dish.

“So we can’t leave the tower,” Mabel agreed, “but are we still allowed to ask for birthday presents?”

“As long as it doesn’t involve you leaving to get it, you may,” Gideon allowed, filling a pot with water and setting it on the stove. “What would you like, my pet?”

“Well I could use some new fabric… Oh, and more paint! I really love that eggshell color that you brought me from your trip to the coast!”

“Is that all?” Gideon chuckled. “I could have that back for you here in about an hour!”

“No!” Mabel cried, eyes wide. “When you teleport it ruins the quality! The last time you brought me paint it was all mixed together and some was super thick and some was super runny. I had to throw the entire batch away!”

“But that journey takes almost a full week by foot!” Gideon complained. “I’d return a few days late for your birthday.”

Mabel pouted, a completely downtrodden look overtaking her round face. “I know, but I just thought it was a better idea than the lights…”

Dipper had to resist the urge to do a celebratory dance right then and there. Gideon could never refuse Mabel, especially when she was upset, (unless it had to do with going outside).

Predictably, Gideon stepped away from the stove and pulled Mabel into a hug, stroking her hair lovingly. “It’s alright, my dear, I’ll go. There’s no need for any of that.”

Mabel sniffled and pulled back, a small smile on her lips. “Really? Thank you, Gideon!”

“You are very welcome,” Gideon smiled back, ruffling her hair. He turned to Dipper, next. “Is there anything that you would like while I’m gone?”

Dipper was caught off guard by the question, assuming that Mabel’s list would’ve been more than enough for Gideon to tolerate. “Um, yeah, actually. I really like the style of that journal you brought home a couple of years ago. I’d like one of those, if it’s okay.”

To his immense surprise, Gideon grinned. “I can pick that up along the way, so it’s perfectly fine. Is that it? Your sister had a huge list.”

Dipper really didn’t want to push his luck, but he had been itching to read something fresh. He’d gone through just about every one of Gideon’s books, and he had an inkling that the man knew because he hadn’t brought home any new ones recently. “Well, I would like a couple of new books to read. I’ve read the three that you gave us last year cover-to-cover about twenty times already.”

“He’s not exaggerating,” Mabel agreed.

Gideon seemed to contemplate this for a moment before finally nodding. “Sounds fair enough. I’ll be on my way as soon as I leave here. Would you two be so kind as to prepare a few things for my journey?”

“Of course, Gideon!” Mabel chirped, running off to her ‘studio.’ Dipper had seen a few larger articles of clothing in there that he assumed Mabel had been working on for their caretaker.

Dipper shrugged, grabbing a basket and moving to the pantry. He began filling it with fresh fruit and a couple of loaves of bread. He also added a jar of Mabel’s homemade jam and some cookies that they’d baked together yesterday.

He was just backing out of the pantry when he felt that force from before grab him around the waist and slam him into the wall. It crawled up his chest, ensnaring him from collar to hip like a giant fist. His vision blurred with spots, head aching from the impact. There was a low growl in his ear, and he could feel a warm, yet menacing breath on his neck.

“You _will_ keep your sister safe while I’m gone.” It wasn’t a request. “The two of you will be in this tower to greet me when I return like the good little children you are, _am I clear_?”

Dipper tried to choke out a response, but it died in his throat. He settled for a nod, just managing to bob his head over the invisible fist strangling him. Angry flames danced in Gideon’s usually docile eyes, making Dipper wince.

Suddenly, he was back on his feet, the force steadying him as he wobbled weakly. The rage was gone from Gideon’s features, replaced with an emotionless expression.

“I trust that you’ll keep your word. Don’t forget, or you’ll regret crossing me, boy.”

Just then Mabel came prancing in, a pile of folded clothes in her hands. “I heard a loud bang. Did something fall?”

“Yeah, I just dropped a couple of the pots in the pantry. Sorry,” Dipper lied. The approving smile that he received from his abuser made him sick to his stomach.

“As long as you’re okay, it’s fine,” Mabel assured. She took the basket from Dipper’s arm, rearranging the items inside to make room for the clothes. She secured the basket with a blanket that she tucked around everything else before handing it to Gideon.

“Thank you, my dear,” their guardian smiled, petting Mabel’s hair affectionately as he accepted the supplies.

The trio walked to the window, the only exit to the tower. Gideon pulled his cloak back on before opening his arms for a hug. Mabel didn’t hesitate to barrel into the man, giving him a squeeze that left him breathless. Dipper resisted the urge to snicker as he went in for his own embrace, though the sentiment exchanged between the two was not the same.

“I’ll be back in five days,” Gideon stated, eyes meeting Dipper’s. He turned back to where Mabel stood at the window, hair dangling from a hook outside. “I love you two very much.”

“We love you more,” she countered, holding her hair steady as he latched onto it and sat on the ledge.

“I love you most,” he chuckled.

Without further delay, Dipper and Mabel lowered Gideon to the ground outside using Mabel’s hair. They watched him walk to the edge of their grotto, disappearing beyond the rocks and ivy curtain that isolated them from the rest of the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooray for Plan B! While Gideon's away, the twins will play. Bill will be introduced next chapter, I promise! Until then~


	4. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dipper and Mabel prepare for their trip and we finally meet our other protagonist!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to post this two weeks ago, but a sudden health issue delayed this update. I'm sorry, but I'm in a relatively better state now and the show must go on! Enjoy~

Bill Cipher, legendary outlaw and wanted thief, had to resist the urge to sing “weeeee!” as he slid along the sloped roof of the palace watch tower. The wind whipped through his shaggy golden hair, the chains on his pants and the buckles on his boots clanking slightly with every movement.

“Did you _have_ to wear all of your stupid accessories?” his mentor hissed at him. “Or did it slip your mind that we were robbing _the palace_ today?”

Bill rolled his eyes. “Unlike you two, I have an image to uphold. I have to give the public what they want.”

“You do realize that we aren’t supposed to be seen by anyone, right?” Dot shot at him with a raised brow.

“Look, if they bother you that much, I’ll just shush them.” Following through with his words, Bill ran a gloved hand over each offending object. “ _Ecnelis_ ,” he commanded. He straightened and shook his hips, a proud smile stretching his lips when he was met with silence.

“Good, now come on, we’ve wasted enough time as it is.”

The rose-haired half-demon and her brother ran ahead, Bill hot on their heels. The morning was crisp, the sun just breaking the horizon. A few fluffy clouds dotted the sky. From their position atop the palace they had a full view of the kingdom, its citizens just waking and beginning their morning errands.

“Man, I could get used to a view like this,” Bill mumbled to himself, a lopsided grin on his face. He basked in the panoramic beauty a moment longer, ignoring the others’ complaints. “Okay, I’m used to it.” He turned back to his companions with an eager expression. “Guys, I want a castle when I grow up!”

Star’s lips quirked into a devious smirk, an expression that better suited her face than the scowl she’d adopted since they’d left home. “And I’m sure you’ll have it, Bill. The Council would be complete morons to not reward us handsomely after we finish this job. In fact, you might just be standing on top of your new home.”

She raced back to her brother, but not before shooting the blond a wink. Bill lingered a second longer, a genuine smile stretching his cheeks. _There was a chance for him to actually live in a castle?_

“Didn’t realize you were this out of shape, Cipher,” Dot taunted, whipping the bob of lapis-colored hair from his matching blue eyes. “Hurry up!”

The siblings were already poised around the skylight that shone down directly onto their target – the last known resource of the king’s brother. The twin had disappeared under mysterious circumstances nearly two decades ago. Because of this, King Stanley had the book guarded under lock and key. It was their most accurate record, and the best defense that the kingdom had against the supernatural natives.

With the unrest amongst the forest-dwellers rising, the three demons had agreed to retrieve and destroy the book. They were offered a pretty handsome sum of money to do it, but Star had initially turned it down, grumbling about a mistake that she had to rectify. Bill had opened his mouth to ask, but the vengeful look in her eyes discouraged him.

He skidded to a stop beside Dot, shooting the unamused bluenette a wink.

Star dutifully ignored their antics, using her magic to burn a hole through the thick glass. Once there was a sizeable opening, Bill took his place at its edge, arms outstretched. He watched as two translucent appendages wrapped around his waist, one pink and one blue. He felt one squeeze just a bit too tight, frowning at Dot as the wind was forced out of him.

“Remember, once you have the book, give a tug and we’ll pull you up,” Star directed, eyes hard. The expression seemed foreign on her usually playful face.

“You got it, boss!” Bill saluted before diving through the hole. He suppressed a chuckle when he heard Dot curse as he scrambled to catch him.

 _Eyes on the prize, Cipher._ Bill mentally reprimanded himself, shifting gears into work mode. Thieving had become second nature to him, so much so that he was widely wanted throughout the kingdom. He enjoyed the act of taking something that belonged to another, but not as much as he loved the thrill of the chase. Perhaps that was why he couldn’t help but alert the guards to his presence.

Journal 1 in hand, he patted the pink tendril suspending him from the rooftop. As he felt himself being reeled up, he called down to the nearest guard, “So, first day, or are they really just paying you too much?”

He snickered, watching the guard scramble to find the source of the taunt. When the man finally looked up, he was already climbing through the hole and racing after his siblings.

“Why do you have to do this every time?” Dot groaned, glaring daggers at his partner-in-crime.

“Aww, come on, Dot, where’s the fun in stealing something without a good chase?” Bill cackled, panting slightly from the effort of talking, laughing, and running.

Star laughed along with him, seemingly more at ease with the book in their possession. “The boy has a point, bro, lighten up!”

Dot grumbled something under his breath, opting to keep his argument to himself and continue to glare at the blond instead.

The trio leaped across rooftops, tumbling onto the ground in a series of impressive barrel rolls just at the royal ground force stormed out of the palace gates, mounted on horses and weapons hot. At the head of the group was General Fiddleford McGucket, seated atop a steed unlike the others. While the rest of the troop’s horses were white with pearl-colored manes, this horse had a deep burgundy coat with a humanlike brown mane.

Bill heard Star gasp when they saw them, and she faltered in her pace. Dot’s scowl deepened, his glare redirected toward the general… or maybe at his horse? Bill swore he heard the other man growl. Furrowing his brows, he grabbed Star’s hand and tugged her along beside him. _There’d be time to ask about it later,_ he decided.

He was well aware that Star and Dot had a rather extensive history in the town – one that extended back long before he had arrived. He’d always tried to avoid questioning them about it, discovering early on that there were certain topics that Star held an aversion toward. But if it was something significant enough to jeopardize their mission like this, he felt that he had a right to know.

The forest was fenced by a literal wall of foliage that separated it from the town. Without hesitation, the three half-demons crashed through it, the jerk of its resistance seeming to jar Star from her trance.

Bill released her arm, stepping back to let her gather her bearings. Dot moved to her side, placing a hesitant hand on her shoulder.

The youngest of the three stood by the barrier, listening to the stampede of hooves grow louder. “We need to keep moving,” he stated once his mentor appeared to be alright. He received a nod from them both, and together they continued their escape through the woods.

* * *

“Mabel, I think we need to travel lighter,” Dipper sighed, looking around at their fully assembled expedition supplies.

The clothes that Mabel had completed were stacked in two neat piles on the sofa, two extra pairs of hand-crafted sandals for each of them on the floor directly below. Ten loaves of bread and two baskets of fruit sat beside the clothes, a bundle of blankets and pillows keeping them from falling all over. Two mats were rolled up on the ground in front of the couch. A first aid kit comprised of gauze, antiseptics, thread, and a hooked needle was encased in a sparkly case. Five journals, three books, and two sketchpads were bundled together with a large ribbon. Various writing and coloring utensils had been thrown into a small basket. Mabel also had most of her hair care products in another, significantly larger basket.

Dipper had also insisted on a few physical weapons, as their magic was not incredibly developed. Mabel had instantly grabbed a frying pan, raising a curious brow from her brother. Said brunet had equipped himself with a knife from the kitchen, slipping it into the belt at his hip. Somehow, this had evolved into a pile of random objects that could potentially be used as weapons sitting at the center of the amassed materials.

Mabel gazed around the room as if realizing the quantity of their supplies for the first time. “Yeah, I think you’re right,” she pouted, “but all of this stuff is completely necessary!”

“We don’t need a ton of blankets and pillows!”

“Then we might as well ditch the mats and just sleep on the ground!”

“No way! Have you read about the types of critters that creep and crawl and slither around on the ground out there?”

“How’s a mat going to stop them? Couldn’t they just crawl onto it?”

“Ugh, fine, but we’re leaving this huge basket! Pick four things that you’ll need for your hair and that’s it.”

“Whoa there, do you have any idea what I go through to take care of this? Of course you don’t because you can actually cut your damn hair!”

Dipper winced. Mabel had always been sensitive about her hair, especially whenever Dipper cut his. The tension of the trip’s preparations, along with the anxiety of being found out, was beginning to grate on them. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring that into this.”

Mabel sighed, reexamining the contents of the basket. “I suppose I can cut at least half of these out.”

“Great,” Dipper smiled, relieved to find one mirroring his. “Now, about those stacks of clothes-”

“Touch them and you won’t live to step foot out of this tower!”

Dipper’s hands shot up. “Fair enough, but we don’t need three pairs of shoes.”

“Of course we do!” Mabel defended. “One pair to wear out, another pair in case something happens to the first pair, and a fancier pair in case there’s a party!”

“Mabel, why and how would we go to a party?”

“You never know who we might run into, Dip!” Mabel chirped, setting the makeshift shoes onto the smaller ‘keep’ pile.

Dipper sighed, knowing that he was fighting a losing battle. “Okay, let’s see what else we have here… A first aid kit? Seriously, Mabel?”

They continued this painstaking process until the pile had greatly diminished. Whatever was deemed unnecessary was shoved into Mabel’s sewing room to be dealt with upon their return.

“Is this a grappling hook?” Dipper frowned, shooting his sister an incredulous look.

“Yep, it’s for you!” she beamed. “You won’t be able to rely on my hair forever, you know. One of these days, I’ll leave the nest, and then how would you get around?”

They laughed dryly at the joke, knowing that it was based on wishful thinking. Despite the cruel reminder that it would later spur, Dipper slid it to the ‘keep’ pile.

Finally, they came to the food, rationing the produce by day and only packing two loaves of bread. They added two sacks of water as an afterthought, Dipper quoting a passage on its importance from some textbook he’d purloined.

It took some time, but they managed to fit everything into two bags. Setting them by the window, they separated, Mabel running off to finish the alterations to the clothes while Dipper made a beeline for Gideon’s study. It was time to see what was in Journal 2.

* * *

“What do you mean, ‘you can’t destroy it’?” Star demanded, glaring at her brother. Her eyes watched his movements meticulously as he drew a fifth circle on the ground, his hands coated in the white chalk.

“I’ve heard of performance anxiety, but this is on another level, bro,” Bill scoffed, crossing his arms and moving to watch from the other side.

“I’m doing it right! This isn’t my first time destroying someone’s property,” Dot huffed, sweeping his blue bangs out of his face. A few strands stuck to the sweat beading at his forehead, a streak of white from his hand pasting them down.

He sat back as he finished, allowing Star to examine his work. Just like the other four, this circle had been executed perfectly.

“Maybe you’re pronouncing the spell incorrectly,” she mumbled, pushing him aside and sitting in his place. She missed the pout that Dot sported, closing her eyes and reciting the incantation.

The circle glowed pink, the chalk rising and slowly beginning to circle the book at its center. Star continued, the whirlwind picking up as her voice rose. The two younger demons watched in anticipation as the chalk lifted the book from the ground and began to glow brighter.

Dot hadn’t exaggerated when he said it wasn’t his first time. In fact, many of their jobs were commissions for others – bitter lovers who wanted their ex-partner’s prized possession in flames, sore losers who couldn’t stand to see their spoils in another’s hands, bitter rivals who needed an upper hand, the list went on.

They knew what should have followed, depending on the spell that they’d cast. This one should have set the book aflame, the worn carcass falling to the ground when it was spent.

But that didn’t happen. Just as it had four times before, the book glowed a combative maroon against the bright pink swirling around it. A bubble of the same color fully encased the tome, expanding outward until the chalk dissipated. When the scattered dust finally settled, the book was back on the ground, not a speck of white on its cover.

Bill scratched at the stubble on his chin, brows knit together in confusion. Star certainly hadn’t messed the spell up. The circle was drawn exactly as it should have been. _So what went wrong?_

“Damn you, Stanford!” Star shrieked, clawing into the stone floor of their cave with her polished nails. Her shoulders shook, and Bill swore he heard a tear or two fall.

Dot moved to comfort her, an arm gently strewn across her back in a side-hug. Bill recognized that it wasn’t his place to meddle, stepping back to give the siblings room.

He moved to the front room of their cave, a small entry that they had fashioned after civilian homes. A coat rack stood near the door, their shoes paired neatly around it. Just beyond it was a reception desk of sorts that he or Dot usually occupied. Whenever someone came in with a job for them, they’d attend to them there.

A thinner door led into the “home” part of the lair, a living area with three doors that sealed off their bedrooms. In the back of Star’s closet was another door, behind which was their library. The library doubled as their practice room, where they strengthened their magic and carried out spells of destruction, such as the one they’d attempted on the journal.

“There was no plausible reason for that spell to fail,” Bill pondered aloud. “Not unless there was a counter spell on it, which would’ve required very strong magic.” _At least magic stronger than Star’s alone._

And there was that name again, _Stanford_. Everyone knew that he was the king’s missing-and-probably-deceased brother, the author of the journals that could lead to their demise. He’d heard that before his disappearance, Stanford had been the royal ambassador to the forest-dwellers. It wasn’t the first time that he’d heard the name slip from Star’s mouth, and whenever he was brought up Dot’s face would crinkle up more than a burning scroll.

There were rumors circling that Stanford had received generous amounts of help with his studies from some beings in particular, but no one cared to discuss the matter with him further. The fact that he was always with Star or Dot also put a damper on his chances to learn more. Although, perhaps that was the biggest clue of them all…

A sudden pounding on their door startled Bill from his musings. The front door was typically unlocked to allow for customers, but whenever they were in the back room they shut the place down.

“May I help you?” he called, blindly opening the door. He was grateful for the shade that the canopy of trees provided.

“Is the deed done?”

Bill’s eyes fell to the three gnomes staring up expectantly at him. They had likely been sent from Gnasty’s, where, as of late, the supernatural council assembled for meetings and in times of trouble.

The Council was an enigma on its own, a secret society of sorts. No one knew when the group began meeting, nor who the representatives were. The officials were independently appointed by the elusive leader, the suspected instigator of the rebel forces. Many assumed that the leader was the head of the manotaurs due to his aggressive nature and leadership skills. Some believed The Council to be headed by some ex-citizens of the kingdom, who felt cheated and wronged by King Stanley and wished for vengeance. A few fingers were even pointed at Star or Dot, but Bill had dismissed them as quickly as he’d heard them.

It was The Council’s self-imposed duty to govern the inhabitants of the forest, occasionally doling out punishment and execution where they saw fit. As of late, they had been rallying troops and preparing for war against the kingdom. It was The Council themselves that had commissioned the trio of demons for the job – a job which should have been completed by now.

Unsure of what to say, Bill slammed the door shut, sealing it with a whispered spell. Dot came running out at the noise, Star following at a slower pace.

“What the hell was that about?” Dot grumbled, crossing his arms.

“Gnomes from The Council,” Bill mumbled, peering out to see if they were still waiting.

Dot’s eyes widened. “What did you tell them?”

“Nothing!” Bill defended, adding guiltily, “but I did slam the door in their face.”

“You what?” Dot shrieked, moving to grab the door handle.

“Dot, wait,” Star commanded. “What are you going to tell them? That we failed? That it’s done, but we have no proof? That we can’t because we need all three journals to destroy it?”

“All _three_ journals?” This was a new development for Bill.

Star glanced at the door warily before grabbing Bill’s wrist. “Stall them for me if they get too antsy, Dot,” she ordered before dragging the protesting blond back to her room.

She released him to shut the door behind her, moving to sit on her bed. Bill took a seat beside her, gauging her movements carefully.

“This explanation is long overdue,” she sighed, summoning a flask with a wave of her hand and taking a drink. “Sorry, but I’m gonna need this to get through it.”

Bill nodded, slipping his hand into her free one and squeezing reassuringly. “It’s okay. I think I’ve gathered most of the pieces myself; you don’t have to go into detail.”

Star gave her adoptive brother an empty smile before taking another swig from the flask. “Oh, my dear, you don’t know the half of it.”

* * *

Journal 2 was the crown jewel of Gideon’s collection. It sat at the center of his study, on a pedestal of all things, the gold-plated six-fingered hand on its cover forever glinting in the dim light cast by the arrangement of torches along the walls. Dipper grabbed one from its fixed position near the door, wary of any new traps that Gideon might have set since his last visit.

His guardian had forbade the twins from ever setting foot in his study after prematurely stopping their magic lessons. Apparently, Dipper had taken to the new spells far too easily, or so he chose to recall. Call him conceited, he assumed that Gideon was fearful of his potential, prompted by his natural talent to hide as many resources from him as possible.

What the guardian had failed to realize was the passion that his lessons had awakened in the young boy. While his commands and locks had been enough to keep the boy away as a child, his curiosity and inclination toward rebellion had only strengthened in his adolescence. Magic flowed through his veins with such power that he could ignore it no longer. It was this that drove him to sneak into the study one evening and snatch the first book that he could get his hands on, a tome of basic spells and runes.

From that moment on, he was hooked. Whenever Gideon left, he’d practice his newfound magic with Mabel. His sister didn’t like to take part in the illegal activity, but found herself drawn into it from time to time. She didn’t care to learn anything too advanced, but simple spells that could be useful through their day to day lives didn’t hurt.

Dipper himself would infiltrate the room and exchange books once a week, always cautious to borrow no more than three at a time from different sections of the room. By their seventeenth birthday, he’d read through over three-quarters of the stuffed shelves.

There was only one tome that eluded him now: Journal 2. It was the oldest book in the study and Gideon’s prized possession. Deeming his entry into the room risky enough, Dipper had never even touched the book, fearful that Gideon would be alerted of this immediately and he’d never be able to set foot in the library again. But now that they were quite literally throwing caution to the wind, the brunet figured he had nothing to lose.

Dipper made his way to the center of the room, scanning the floor and various shelves for runes or circle traps. After what seemed like an eternity, he stood before his prize, the burgundy leather-bound book seated in front of him.

He took his time examining the pedestal that it was perched on before determining that it was safe to grab, quickly exchanging it for a look-alike that he had crafted on the off chance that he forgot to return it or Gideon came looking.

Carefully taking the same path out, he shut the door behind himself before giving a triumphant cheer. The book that had eluded him for so many years was finally in his hands!

Wasting no time, he hurried to his favorite reading spot, an alcove ironically located near Gideon’s room. It was similar to a very small loft, and he had to use a stool to reach the first foothold. Tucking the book under his chin, he scaled the wall to the nook.

Three cushions and a blanket supplied the comfort while a small window that he’d spent weeks subtly crafting provided natural light. He always had to position the cushions to block out any light that could potentially give the spot away. Mabel knew about it, of course, but he couldn’t risk Gideon knowing about the window. It was tough enough keeping him from boarding up the bay window.

He set the book down to rearrange the pillows. He wouldn’t have long before they’d have to leave, but he wanted to fully enjoy his favorite spot for what would likely be the last time.

* * *

“So you helped him with all of his research, saved the lives of his niece and great-niece-and-nephew, _and_ risked your life to warn him about the threat to his, only for him to just toss you aside?”

Star’s eyes were red and puffy, her nose irritated from all of her sniffling. She tried to take another gulp from her flask, only to find it empty.

“Damn it,” she grumbled, throwing the metal tin against the wall. It shattered, the small shards evaporating into the air. She turned to address Bill’s question, offering a grim nod as her answer.

“Okay, we’ve established that he’s a real tool,” Bill started slowly, hesitant of the answer to his next question. He licked his lips, trying to gauge Star’s emotional stability before asking, “Where is he now? And what about his family?”

Star sighed, running a hand through her hair. It was drenched in a deep shade of blue, the usually bouncy curls sagging like a mop on her head. She summoned a mirror, examining her appearance with a wince. “Wow, I look like Hell froze over, don’t I?”

Bill didn’t answer the question, judging it to be rhetorical. Whether it was or was not, Star didn’t push for a response.

“To answer your questions, Stanford Pines got what was coming to him. He bit off far more than he could chew, his precious great-niece-and-nephew went missing along with him, and his dear niece died. His twin brother, whom you know as the current king, is the last member of his family left. I didn’t know what happened to him… until I saw him today with the general.”

Bill opened his mouth to ask which guard he was before realizing what she was implying. That horse with the unusual colors, whose mane had seemed so humanoid…

Star laughed bitterly, but the tears that slipped from her eyes betrayed her true emotions, (aside from her blue eyes and hair). Bill shuffled closer to her, an arm stroking her back comfortingly.

“I’m sorry that you had to relive all of that for me,” he apologized gently. It was horrible what that human had done to her – were they all really that selfish? Star and Dot had often warned him about getting too close to them.

‘ _And you do have your own history,’_ his subconscious reminded him, his fists clenching slightly at the memories flooding his mind. Suddenly it was no wonder that this war had been a long time coming!

Star sat up, wiping her face with her sleeve. She seemed to catch onto his train of thought, taking his hand in her own and squeezing gently. “Thank you for listening, dearest,” she murmured sincerely, sweeping the bangs from his face tenderly, “it means a lot to me that you’re here.”

Bill shook the troubling thoughts from his head and smiled at her softly, standing to give her room to compose herself. His hands balled into fists involuntarily at the sight of his sister in such distress. His sister, who had taken him in when no one else wanted him. His sister, who had scooped him up off of the streets of Gravity Falls and became a mentor to him. His sister, the only role model that he had known and wouldn’t trade for the world. His sister, the strongest person that he could imagine.

“Star, I swear that I will do everything in my power to help you fix your mistakes,” he declared in a dark voice. He saw something flash in Star’s eyes before a small smirk quelled any doubt that he might have had.

“It’s great to hear you say that, pet,” she purred, eyes and hair quickly revitalizing to their usual bold pink. “There is, in fact, something that you can do.”

Bill’s eyes lit up. “What might that be?”

Star’s gaze was set on the mirror again, her hands working to remedy the mess that her tears had caused. “Stanford and I set a tracking spell on the journals once he began writing them in case any were ever stolen or lost. He presumably never told anyone else of this, otherwise I’m certain the palace would have been in possession of all three by now.”

Once she deemed herself presentable again, she took Bill’s wrist, leading him back through the closet and into the hidden room where they’d left the journal, continuing her explanation along the way.

“That rat that cursed Stanford must’ve stolen whichever journal was on him at the time, either Two or Three. I recall him telling me that he’d found a place deep in the forest to hide the remaining one, but I’m not sure if he got the chance to.”

They stopped at the circle’s edge, the journal still on the floor at its center. She released him to pick it up, drumming the pads of her fingertips along the gold hand in a rhythmic pattern. Suddenly, the number at its center began to flicker a dim red light, a faint beeping sound accompanying it.

“There,” she smirked, handing the book over to her charge. “The light will flash brighter and more frequently when you get closer to another journal. The sound should also get louder, but you can silence it if you need to.”

Bill accepted the tome cautiously, a confused frown weighing down his lips. “Okay, but why are you giving this to me?”

“Because you are going to retrieve them for me,” came the simple reply.

Gold eyes widened, an uncertain look meeting confident pink irises. “Alone?”

“Of course! Dot and I need to stall the council before they try to hang us for treason or some shit. And between you and me, I trust you more than my ass of a brother,” she winked conspiratorially. When that did nothing to calm the young demon’s nerves, she sighed, placing both hands firmly on his shoulders.

“Bill, I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I didn’t think you were capable of handling it,” she smiled reassuringly. “I know that you won’t let me down.”

Bill gulped, trying to summon his usual confidence. Just a minute ago, he’d vowed to help Star, no matter the task. And he was most certainly a man of his word.

“You’re right,” he nodded, a smile involuntarily crossing his features. His grip on the book tightened. “I won’t fail you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I think we can all safely assume what's going down next chapter... Bill is a very complex character with quite a few conflicting emotions, most of which will be explained in due time. Let's just say that Dipper's not the only one who has a reason to be paranoid.
> 
> Thank you for your kudos, comments, and bookmarks! It's very encouraging to get this kind of support so early into this story! I hope you're all strapped in for the long haul, because it's all uphill (or maybe downhill?) from here!


	5. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bill scales a tower and makes a deal that leads to a couple of unforeseen consequences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I literally just got home from a trip (gotta love 9 hour mini-van road trips), so I was going to post this tomorrow, but thanks to a couple of encouraging comments, *cough cough* I present Chapter 3!

“M-Maybe this is a bad idea.” Dipper winced the second that the words left his lips. As much as it pained him to say, he couldn’t allow them to leave without at least voicing the concern that had been running marathons in his head since they’d hatched the risky plan. He’d hoped that the contents of Journal 2 would’ve brought some comfort, but the catalogue of beasts and unfamiliar terrain only worsened his paranoia.

He immediately regretted opening his mouth when he saw the wounded expression on Mabel’s face. “Do you really think so?” she asked in a small voice that mirrored how her twin felt.

Dipper bit his lip and nodded, not trusting his mouth to say anything else. The last thing that he wanted was to completely crush his sister’s dream, especially because doing so would crush his as well.

Mabel sighed, setting her bag down. She ran a hand through the top of her hair, gazing out the window longingly. “So what? Do we give up before we even try?”

“…I don’t know,” Dipper admitted. All of his logic was telling him that if they left in their current state, their chances of survival were very slim; and that didn’t even factor in Gideon’s rage if he found out!

And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to abort the mission altogether. So much preparation had gone into this, and there would likely never be an opportunity like this again. He knew that there would be regrets, it was just a matter of determining which path would leave him with less.

Mabel was still facing the window, fists clenching the windowsill determinedly. “You can stay if you want to, but I’m going to see those lights!” she declared, turning to face her brother with a challenging fire in her eyes.

Dipper actually took a step back, an anxious lump burning in his throat. He’d never seen such resolve in his sister before; he’d always been a bit afraid that Gideon had broken her. _Perhaps this trip was exactly what they needed._

“Fair enough,” he conceded, raising his hands. “But I stand by my previous statement: this trip may be the worst idea we’ve ever carried out. I mean, we’ve never even touched grass before! Who’s to say we won’t break out in hives the second that we do?”

Mabel giggled, the tension breaking. “You’re probably right,” she agreed, perching onto the cushions of the bay window bench, “but we don’t have much of a choice. Our window of opportunity is closing, Dip!”

“I know,” Dipper muttered, stroking the stubble on his chin contemplatively. If only they had some extra help. Sure, the information in the journal would definitely come in handy, and two _were_ already better than one, but if they had someone with experience with them…

“Hey, do you hear something?” Mabel spontaneously asked, eyes darting around the room.

Dipper froze, unaware that he had been pacing until that moment, and listened closely. He didn’t hear anything initially, but a slow shuffle to the window where his sister was still seated allowed his ears to pick up a faint beeping sound.

“That’s a peculiar sound,” he murmured, leaning forward to look out the window. Failing to find anything out of the ordinary, he made his way back into the room, Mabel trailing behind him. They meticulously examined the area, but the sound faded the further they went from the window.

“Maybe it’s something in the bushes,” Mabel suggested, peering out at the foliage below.

“There are a lot of strange beings in the forest,” Dipper nodded, pulling Journal 2 out and thumbing through it. “But I read through most of this and no entries mentioned any creatures that make that sort of sound.”

Mabel gasped. “Do you think it might be a person, then?”

“I think it might be magic,” Dipper stated, snapping the book shut. “There’s an even greater chance that it may be both.”

Suddenly, the noise stopped, the only sound coming from outside being the usual rustling of the wind through the bushes. _Or was it the wind?_

The peace was abruptly shattered by a new sound, one that the twins recognized from years ago, before Mabel’s hair was long enough for Gideon to use to climb up.

“Dipper, they’re scaling the tower!” his sister whispered urgently, conscious that their voices might alert the intruder. “Should we hide?”

Dipper shook his head, reaching into his bag to pull out the nearest weapon. “I say we take them out,” he whispered back.

Mabel’s eyes widened, but she followed his example, pulling a kitchen knife from her bag. She shuffled to stand behind him, only wanting to use her weapon if it was absolutely necessary.

The noise was getting louder and closer, small grunts now audible. Dipper pulled the curtains in front of himself for cover, Mabel slipping behind them.

The curtains were sheer enough for Dipper to spot a tan hand latching onto the windowsill, a second appearing beside it. With a louder grunt, the stranger pulled himself up and over the edge, rolling onto the cushions with a sigh. He seemed to take a moment to catch his breath before leaping to his feet, facing the opposite direction of the twins’ location.

“Ha, who’s out of shape now, Dot?” he cried triumphantly, putting his hands on his hips. His figure was rather slender, but he had fairly noticeable traces of muscle along his arms and torso. His sleeves were rolled up to mid-bicep, probably to make the climb easier, and Dipper couldn’t help but ogle the muscle visible with a bit of envy.

Mabel tapped him on the shoulder, silently enquiring why he was waiting. Remembering what he was supposed to do, Dipper quietly crept around the curtain, bringing his weapon up to strike.

A loud thud echoed through the room as the frying pan connected with the unsuspecting stranger’s blond head. His voluminous waves of hair weren’t enough to cushion the blow, and the man went down immediately.

Dipper stared at the blunt instrument in his hands in shock. “Well, that was more effective than I thought it would be…” he mumbled, hooking it back to his bag cautiously.

When he turned back he found Mabel kneeling beside the stranger, a look of wonder on her cherubic face.

“Mabel! Get away from him, he could be dangerous!” he cried, shooing her with his arms.

Mabel rolled her eyes. “Relax Dip, he’s out cold,” she huffed, lifting one of his eyelids and waving her hand in front of it to affirm her point. “Wow, he has really pretty eyes! And the rest of him isn’t too bad, either.”

Dipper sighed, but he didn’t move to stop her. This was their first encounter with another being that wasn’t Gideon – she had every right to be curious. Sometimes it was easy to forget that there were other people in the world aside from the three of them. Even so, he was cautious in his approach to the unconscious man.

He studied the stranger with a scrutinizing gaze. Brilliant blond, almost golden hair fanned about his face in choppy waves, the bangs sweeping over his left eye. The color easily complimented his smooth caramel skin. His eyebrows were the same striking gold, sculpted perfectly over his closed almond-shaped eyes. His pink lips were plump and soft, Dipper subconsciously running his tongue over his own.

The man’s attire hugged much of his lean figure. The sleeves of his white shirt were still rolled up, a black vest pulling it in to his waist. A gold handkerchief peeked out from the vest’s breast pocket, pairing well with the gold accent on his belt and the gold chains and buckles along the lower half of his outfit. The dark grey pants were tighter than any he’d seen in books, easily tucking into his black mid-calf boots. A grey satchel with a gold clasp crossed his body, resting at his hip. He couldn’t deny that the man was attractive, and apparently neither could his sister.

“I think you two would make a cute couple!” Mabel concluded, a self-satisfied smirk on her face.

Dipper choked on air. “E-Excuse me?”

Mabel snickered at his reaction. “Come on, bro bro, I saw you checking him out!”

Dipper desperately tried to fight the color rising to his cheeks. _He hadn’t been “checking him out” so much as he was… analyzing the enemy and calculating the best way to keep them both safe! Yeah, that sounded about right._

“I wasn’t checking him out,” Dipper stated coolly, his internal monologue patting him on the back. “And what about you? Doesn’t this fit the sort of plot in those dramas you’re a fan of?”

Mabel brushed the comment off easily with a wave of her hand. “Sure, but who’s to say that _you’re_ not the protagonist? I mean, you are the one who knocked him out. Besides, I’m sure we’ll meet plenty of other people along the way for me!”

Dipper pouted, unsure of how to respond. In her own, fantastical way, she had a point. This was already setting up to be one of her cliché romance novels…

“Hey, he’s a huge nerd, too! Look, he even has the same book as you! Aww, you two are _totally_ meant to be!” Mabel swooned, holding up the leather-bound journal that she’d dug out of the stranger’s bag.

“I’m definitely confiscating your novels,” Dipper huffed, but the book did catch his attention. He snatched it from his sister’s grasp, ignoring the annoyed “hey!” as he held it up to his own copy.

The material and craftsmanship were identical, the only dissimilarity being the number embedded in each gold hand. While his journal had a two on it, this had a one, the usual black flickering a bold red. He touched the volumes together to check for a difference in size, surprised to find the red light ceasing its flashes.

“Can your book do that?” Mabel inquired, prodding at the journal curiously.

“I think so? It seems like some sort of tracking device; maybe they were set to locate each other in case they were parted,” he mumbled, running his fingertips over the cover. “But a better question would be, ‘what is this guy doing with the journal and why is he trying to find ours?’”

Mabel nodded, drumming her fingers along her chin in thought. The pair lapsed into silence as they tried to figure out their next plan of action. Suddenly, she clapped her hands together, eyes lighting up. “Why don’t we bring him with us?”

“What?” Dipper spluttered, stunned that such a proposition had even come up. “Mabel, this man just intruded into our home! We don’t know who he is, where he came from, or what his intentions were! How _on earth_ would that be a good idea?”

“You’re missing the big picture, bro bro!” Mabel spread her arms out to illustrate her point. “You’re curious about the journals, and here comes this guy who seems like he could have the answers. You also said that we could use some backup – well, meet our new guide!”

“We don’t even know his name!”

“Oh! There’s a poster here with his name on it!” Mabel cheered, pulling the crumpled paper from the bag. “Bill Cipher, that has a nice ring to it!”

“Mabel, that’s a wanted poster! He’s a criminal?!” Dipper cried indignantly. “That’s even worse!”

“Why do you keep rejecting all of my ideas?” Mabel pouted and crossed her arms. “Dipper, we’ve been dreaming of this trip our whole lives! What are you so afraid of?”

 _What was he afraid of?_ The question caught Dipper off guard. He hadn’t realized how defensive he’d been. Perhaps he was letting all of Gideon’s warnings get to him. This whole trip was planned around taking risks, something that they’d never had to do before, at least not to this degree. He knew that he was trying to limit the amount of risks that they took, but maybe that was holding him back from making any at all.

Taking a deep breath, Dipper turned to his sister and studied her expression. He caught traces of uncertainty in her eyes, but the confidence that she exuded outweighed it and calmed his nerves.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed. “I’m just… really unsure about this.”

“I don’t think there’s any way to _be_ sure about it,” Mabel smiled, slipping her hand into his free one. “The best we can do is enjoy the ride wherever it takes us.”

Her hand was a welcome comfort, a peaceful air settling on them. “You’re right,” Dipper nodded, exhaling another breath and squeezing his sister’s hand. He steeled himself, fighting off any doubts that remained. “Alright, let’s see if we can strike a deal with this guy.”

* * *

 

The first thing that he was aware of was the raging headache rattling his brain. He winced when he tried to open his eyes, relieved to find his surroundings dark, but still pained by the fireworks exploding along his eyelids.

He tried to groan, eyes involuntarily widening when he realized that he couldn’t. There was something tucked into his mouth, effectively stifling even his breathing. Upon further observation, he found that he was entirely secured to a chair, the furniture rocking with his movements and not allowing any leeway.

 _‘What the hell?’_ Every warning signal bounced around in Bill’s mind, doing nothing to soften his splitting headache. He tried to relax, inhaling and exhaling meticulously through his nose. Whatever was gagging him tickled, his nostrils burning with a suppressed sneeze.

 _‘Relax!’_ he ordered mentally, involuntarily squirming in his bonds. He couldn’t cast any spells verbally, but he’d had plenty of practice using mental magic during his escapades with Star and Dot. Mental magic was much more complicated to pull off, and it drained more magic than vocal spells did. All he needed to do was remove whatever was blocking his mouth.

He closed his eyes and started chanting a simple vanishing spell in his head, visualizing the dark material running across his lips as he repeated the mantra. His lips grew hot against it, the flames of the spell licking at the gag. Whatever it was made of was strong and very resistant to his efforts. He continued to push and was pleased to feel it receding, his jaw steadily closing as he continued.

 _‘Almost there!’_ he encouraged, trying to drive more energy into it. He was starting to feel the effects of the combination of his headache and the spell casting, (no earthly material should have put up this much of a fight), but he was so close!

“Whoa!” The abrupt exclamation snapped his focus, the remaining pieces of the gag clinging to his lips. Bill slowly opened his eyes, shutting them immediately when he found that the room was much brighter than it had been before.

“How did you manage to sear through this material?” a feminine voice asked in wonder. He felt a soft hand run along the fabric at his lips, tracing it to the back of his head where it was presumably tied.

“Look at me,” she commanded in a soft voice.

Bill forced his eyes open again, squinting at the figure in front of him. His first thought was “princess.” Everything about this girl screamed regality, from her delicate features to her confident stance. She looked to be near his height, a fuchsia dress framing her streamline body perfectly. A purple belt cut the garment at her slightly curvy hips. Her brown eyes were cool and calculating, a look that he often found on his sister. Despite her authoritative demeanor, her full lips were stretched in a warm smile, complimenting her round cheeks.

The most noticeable feature about her was the silky brown hair that ran off in a seemingly endless direction. He squinted to follow the trail along the floor, up the wall, somewhere into the rafters, and finally down to him. He couldn’t help the muffled gasp that escaped him when he realized that her hair secured him to the chair. He tried again to wrench his wrists from the bindings, surprised when they continued to hold tight.

“Don’t bother struggling,” the girl chirped in an all too merry voice. “My hair has certain… _magical properties._ ”

“Don’t tell him that!” another voice scolded from behind him. Bill strained to look over his shoulder, groaning when it only caused him pain.

“Sorry, that’s my brother Dipper,” the girl apologized with an embarrassed blush. “Oh, and I’m Mabel! You sort of intruded on our tower-”

“Why are you giving him all of that information?” Dipper complained.

“Because he deserves to know who tied him up and why!”

“No he doesn’t!”

Bill tried to speak up, if only to quell the irritating bickering, but all that came out were garbled noises. Mabel seemed to hear him, though, leaning forward and pulling the gag from his mouth.

“Dipper’s armed with a frying pan behind you – if you even try to use your magic he’ll knock you into next week,” the young woman warned menacingly in his ear.

“Fair enough,” he shrugged, fixing the girl with a charming smile. According to Star, humans were easily swayed by flattery. “The name’s Cipher, by the way; Bill Ciph-”

“Oh, we know who you are,” Dipper cut in, disapproval in his tone.

Bill resisted the urge to whirl around and address him, the pain in the back of his head a grim reminder of the possible consequence. Electing to ignore the jab instead, he focused on Mabel and continued, “Care to tell me why I’m still tied up, dollface?”

“We have a proposition for you,” Mabel answered cryptically with a smirk.

Bill rolled his eyes. As if being knocked out and tied up by a couple of young humans wasn’t enough of a blow to his ego, now they were trying to be dramatic and menacing. This was definitely not how he’d planned on things going, but he’d play along until he found an opening. “And that would be…?”

Mabel walked closer to the wall behind her, gesturing to a painting of two figures seated beneath dozens of floating lights. “Do you know what these are?”

Bill furrowed his brows. They were far larger than stars should be, so he ruled that out immediately. The only other lights in the sky that he was aware of were the lanterns that the kingdom released annually as part of the upcoming holiday. “Is that supposed to be The Lantern Festival?”

“Lanterns?” Dipper asked curiously behind him.

“Yeah, every year the king holds a huge day-long festival in the center of the kingdom, followed by an exclusive ball and finally the release of the lanterns. You’ve never heard of it before?”

It was one of Bill’s favorite holidays; so many empty houses and drunk party-goers ripe for the picking! He was a bit surprised that the two humans had never heard of it before. He’d been under the impression that every mortal on the island took part in the festival, whether they were aware of its significance or not.

“No, we’ve only ever seen it from a distance,” Mabel pouted. “It sounds even more incredible than we’d imagined!”

Bill furrowed his brows at the offhanded comment. “What do you mean ‘from a dista-’”

“Mabel, why don’t we switch places?” Dipper suddenly interrupted, shoving the frying pan into his sister’s hands and taking her place in front of Bill.

The demon felt his breath momentarily escape him. He’d thought Mabel was beautiful, but the young man in front of him was stunning. He had the same intelligent brown eyes and brunet hair as his sister, but the similarities stopped there. Rather than round cheeks, Dipper had rather prominent cheekbones and a slightly more slender jawline. He had dense bangs that cropped just above his thick eyebrows, the rest of his hair falling back in waves that were neatly trimmed to his neck.

His clothes seemed perfectly tailored to his slender figure. He was dressed in a sapphire shirt with the sleeves crisply folded at his elbows. The color looked amazing against his skin, bold enough to stand out, but not so much that it washed him out. A dark grey vest only helped to define the bit of muscle that he had along his upper body. Tan pants kept the outfit bright, the garment hugging his hips and flaring slightly at his feet to allow for easy movement. He noticed that curiously, neither he nor his sister wore shoes.

“Hey, eyes up here, Cipher!” Dipper snapped his fingers in front of the blond’s face, and it was only then that he realized he’d been staring for too long. Dipper’s cheeks were flushed, and he refused to meet his gaze directly.

“Sorry, I’ve just never seen anyone as gorgeous as you two,” Bill replied casually, smirking when he saw Dipper’s blush darken. If he was being forced to hold a conversation with the two, he was hell-bent on getting the most satisfaction from it.

“Yeah, well the least you can do is pay attention to what I’m saying, too,” Dipper huffed.

“Trust me, kid, you have my _full_ attention,” the blond purred with a wink. _Were all humans this easy to rile up?_ He heard Mabel giggle behind him and wondered idly if they’d been doing the same to him when he was unconscious.

“Anyway,” Dipper grumbled, moving to stand at the wall where his sister had been, “this ‘lantern festival’ that you speak of is set to take place again in two days.”

 _Oh, he was well aware of that fact._ “So?”

“ _You_ will act as our guide and lead us into town to see them.”

Bill blanched. This discussion had suddenly become less amusing. “Excuse me? Why the fuck would I do that?”

“We have something that you want,” Dipper replied simply.

It was then that Bill recalled why he’d climbed the tower in the first place. His eyes darted across his person, widening when they failed to find what he so desperately needed. “What did you do with my satchel?!”

Dipper gave him an innocent expression. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t even play that!” Bill spat, internally panicking. The boy obviously knew what he was talking about, and he was suddenly worried about what they might have done with it in their ignorance.

Dipper tapped his chin, gazing up at the ceiling in thought. “Let’s see, a satchel… Oh, do you mean the bag with that weird book in it?”

“Yes, ‘the bag with that weird book in it’! Where is it, you little brat?”

“Wow, the man tied to a chair with his possessions on the line just insulted his captor. It doesn’t get more ironic than that!”

In any other situation, Bill would have smiled and offered a challenging comeback to the kid’s wit. Instead, he sighed, fixing the brunet with a skeptical glare. _It wouldn’t hurt to hear their demands, would it?_ “What do you want?”

Dipper studied his hand with feigned interest, a bored expression on his face. “Let’s make a deal.”

Bill almost guffawed at the wording. “I don’t think you want to risk that,” he chuckled darkly.

“Why not?” Mabel asked. She’d been so quiet that he’d nearly forgotten that she was back there.

“Ever hear the expression ‘making a deal with the devil’? I’m not exactly him, but the same warning applies.”

He couldn’t see Mabel’s expression, but he assumed from her silence that she was digesting the information. Dipper fixed him with a wide-eyed expression. “You’re a demon?”

“You could say that,” Bill shrugged. In this case he’d take advantage of any piece of leverage that he could grasp. “And don’t look at me like that, kid, it’s rude to discriminate.”

He watched Dipper close his mouth and shake his head in wonder. “Sorry, it’s just… I didn’t know that half-demons existed! I’d only read about demons recently, so this is a new development for me.”

“Hey Dip, can we talk for a sec?” Mabel finally asked softly. Dipper shrugged in response, moving to the other side of the room. Mabel turned back to Bill, hesitantly shoving the cloth back into his mouth. “I’ll make it quick,” she promised before hurrying over to her brother.

Bill knew that he could easily spit the gag out and free himself, but part of him was curious to see where this would lead. Mabel seemed incredibly spooked by his revelation – perhaps they’d forget about dragging him along on their silly trip and let him leave, with both journals even, if he’d promise not to hurt them or something like that. Humans were so easy to manipulate, it was laughable.

He waited impatiently for them to return, Mabel pulling the strip from his mouth and taking her place behind him again. Dipper took his place before him, his demeanor even more confident than before. Had someone slapped a crown on the young man’s head, Bill would’ve been fooled into calling him “king.”

“Mabel raised a couple of concerns, but rest assured we’ve worked them out,” Dipper explained with a smug and knowing expression. “I read about how deals with demons go; I assume it’s not much different for half-demons?”

“You assume correctly,” Bill nodded, trying to conceal the gloom that hung over him. _What was wrong with him?_ He hadn’t seized the opportunity to escape when he had it, and now he’d likely have to settle. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t intrigued by the prospect of a deal, though. Star and Dot had adamantly warned him about making deals – especially with humans, but these two seemed harmless enough. Hell, he might be able to heckle them out of even more!

“Lay your terms out, I’ll come back with my own, and once we come to an agreement we shake on it,” he explained. “The handshake is binding, you’ll probably feel a tingle of magic, and that will be that.” As an afterthought, he added, “I should also warn you before we proceed that I’m not exactly _welcome_ in the kingdom at the moment…”

“Yeah, we saw the wanted poster in your satchel,” Mabel quipped behind him. “We had that debate before you woke up.”

Bill shrugged. It was worth a shot. He tried to turn to Mabel, wriggling his wrists in the hair. “I’ll need a hand free for this.”

Mabel gave a small tug on a clump of hair over her shoulder, the wave rippling to the patch around his wrists. It shifted compliantly from his right hand and fastened tighter to the left. Bill rolled his wrist gratefully, shaking the knots from the joint.

Dipper inhaled sharply, drawing Bill’s attention back to him. The teen seemed to be steeling himself to make the deal, something the blond found inexplicably adorable. When their gazes met, Bill reflexively gave him a small nod and a reassuring smile, a gesture that Star typically extended when he was having trouble with his magic. The sentiment calmed the brunet enough to begin.

“In exchange for your satchel and its contents, as well as your freedom, you will take Mabel and me safely into town for the Lantern Festival, then bring us back home-” he paused, seeming to deliberate something before adding “-or wherever we desire afterward. You are not allowed to abandon us; you must remain near one of us at all times. If either of us is injured or-” the young man hesitated, swallowing a lump in his throat before continuing “-dies, or you fail to take us to the previously mentioned locations, you forfeit ownership of the book to us permanently.”

“Wow, lovely diction,” Bill praised earnestly. “Are you sure you’ve never made a deal before?”

“Unless Gideon counts as a demon,” the boy mumbled, mostly to himself. “No, but thank you,” he answered louder. “Now I believe it’s your turn to come back with a rebuttal?”

Bill nodded, taking a moment to scrutinize Dipper’s proposal. Getting the journal back was a nice incentive, but it wasn’t what he’d come for. “I take no responsibility for self-inflicted injuries. Anything that is a result of either of you putting yourself in harm’s way is out of my jurisdiction. I am also not responsible for either of you getting cold feet and turning back…” He trailed off, pretending to contemplate his next condition. In truth, he was just stalling to make this reveal more dramatic: “Also throw in the second journal that I know you have and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

Dipper’s eyes predictably widened, his confidence faltering slightly. “So I was right about that blinking light being a tracker, wasn’t I?”

“Yes. I didn’t come here to hurt you or your sister, if that’s what you were thinking. I thought that the tower was abandoned, and that it was only the journal remaining. It was supposed to be a simple recovery mission.”

“And what are your ties to the journals?” Dipper pressed.

“I could ask you the same question, kid,” Bill retorted with a stern expression. Star hadn’t told him which journal he’d find where, but something about this journal’s location seemed sketchy. And unlike his talkative sister, Bill could tell that the brunet was trying to hide some things from him. _Two could play that game._

“Then I guess we’re both out of luck. Fine, we won’t hold you accountable for self-inflicted injuries, and you’ll be released from the contract if we decide to turn back. But the journal isn’t mine to bet on.” As guarded as he tried to keep his emotions, Bill could read a bit of fear on Dipper’s face.

“Well, that’s too bad,” the demon pouted with an apathetic expression. “I’m not leaving without that book. I had hoped that we could come to a peaceful resolution – you kids seem nice enough to leave alive – but if I have to use force, well, my specialty is fire magic.” He conjured a small blue flame in his palm to demonstrate.

According to Star, he had a penchant for destructive magic, fire being the most prominent. He’d picked up on it easily enough, and after years of practice it was the easiest for him to conjure mentally. It was far less strenuous than other types of magic, and as such had become his default.

Dipper fixed him with a bewildered gaze, fear clearly etched into his features now. Bill was banking on the crazy look in his eyes being the greater of two evils in this case – he really didn’t want to hurt these two, as irritating as they were being. Unlike most demons, who would jump at a chance to bring harm to a pair of defenseless mortals, Bill preferred prey that could put up a fight. Sure, that frying pan had packed a punch, but it wouldn’t stand a chance against his skills. But he had to remind himself that this was still business.

Dipper’s eyes shot up to his sister, who was making foreign signals at him that were visible from Bill’s vantage point. Dipper mimed a couple back, biting his lip apprehensively. Bill didn’t even try to understand, picking at the hair around his waist idly. The density of each strand was stronger than any hair he’d come across before – he wondered what manner of conditioning Mabel used.

Finally, Dipper cleared his throat, drawing the demon’s attention again. “Alright, if that’s the only additional price that you have-”

“Actually, I have one more,” Bill interrupted with a devious smirk. Having known that the boy would cave, he had thought up another request to push his buttons with.

“And that would be?”

“A kiss.”

Dipper’s cheeks erupted in a flush of furious red that made the discomfort of the entire situation completely worth it. “I don’t think so.”

“I’ll kiss him!” Mabel piped up eagerly.

“No! No one’s kissing anyone! No deal.” Dipper put his foot down, glaring at the cocky expression on Bill’s face.

“Then I guess you two will have to go on without a guide…”

“Seriously? What about the journals?”

“Come on, Dip! It’s just a kiss.”

Dipper’s glare shifted to his sister, who had moved to Bill’s left. She was sporting the heaviest pout that Bill had ever seen. Had she fixed that look on him while they were making the deal, he would’ve walked away with nothing.

It was a battle of resolve, and as the seconds went by it was clear that Dipper was fighting a losing battle. Finally, he cracked.

“Ugh, fine! One kiss!”

Mabel cheered, the triumphant smirk on her face similar to the one that Bill sported.

“Deal?” the half-demon asked, free hand outstretched. A blue fire tipped with gold lit up in his palm, his eyes igniting the same color. He wasn’t thrilled about the prospect of having to babysit these two, especially if Star were to find out about the setback, but he could actually use this as an opportunity to prove himself! Besides, there wouldn’t be anything that a little _excursion_ couldn’t dissuade…

Dipper bit his lip hesitantly before clasping the blond’s hand tightly. “Deal.”

There was a flash as an unexpected force clashed with the demon’s magic, both men being thrown back by the recoil. Dipper hit the wall, a breathless gasp leaving him. Bill fell to the ground, still tied securely to the chair. Mabel hurried to help her brother up, the duo helping the demon up and untying him after.

“Are you both alright?” she asked with concern.

“Yeah,” Dipper nodded, seeming surprised. He patted himself to check for injuries, turning back to his sister with a grin. “Actually, I feel great. What _was_ that?”

Bill was staring at the twins in shock, eyes mostly on Dipper. “You weren’t kidding about that magic, were you?” he asked quietly.

Dipper bit his lip and shook his head. There was no use in hiding it now; that blast was obviously a reaction to their magic clashing. Plus, Bill wasn’t allowed to harm them or allow any harm to befall them according to the contract, so they were safe from his rage. “No, we were kind of born with it.”

The blond nodded, digesting the new development slowly. He’d underestimated the damn brats and made things a _whole lot_ more complicated for himself. He wanted to be angry, but oddly enough, it was a relief to hear. Things had seemed too easy and dull before – and Bill Cipher absolutely _loved_ a challenge. It was quite an interesting situation that he’d managed to rope himself into, too. He burst into a fit of laughter at the prospect, startling his two charges. “Well that explains it!”

Dipper waited patiently for the man to elaborate, Mabel bouncing at his side anxiously.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, wiping a tear from his eyes. “That blast… When two magic users make a deal, a link forms between them. It usually has to do with the depth and terms of the deal, as well as the amount of power binding it. In our case, you requested that I keep you two safe and remain connected to at least one of you at all times. Our link now allows me to be ‘connected to one of you.’ It’s an empathy link of sorts, but it will also serve as a leash to keep us within the same vicinity at all times. And as for the power, well I know that _I_ have quite a supply on my side, but I can feel _a lot_ of energy bouncing within you, as well…”

Bill found Dipper’s silence to be a bit suspicious, but he dismissed it as the kid trying to absorb the information. Mabel, on the other hand, released an excited squeal, grabbing Bill’s hand with a merry expression. “Oh my stars, it’s like you two are married!”

Bill nearly gagged at the comparison, covering it with a forced chuckle. He hadn’t intended to be linked to either of the twins, (God forbid he get attached to them), but at least it was to the quieter of the two. He didn’t want to imagine what Mabel’s mind was like on a regular basis, (then again, she did seem like the chaotic type…). Plus, Dipper was much more fun to tease!

“I guess it’s reasonable enough,” the brunet finally consented. “I’m not thrilled about it, but if it’s necessary I can live with it.”

The feeling was mutual, but Bill clutched at his chest, a feigned offended expression on his face. “Ah, you wound me, Pine Tree!”

“Pine Tree?” Bill pointed to the design that he’d just noticed on the breast of Dipper’s vest. It was stitched in very fine gold thread, the outline faintly standing out against the dark material. Mabel’s belt sported a small shooting star with a multi-colored trail.

“I figured since we’re practically ‘married’ now, I should give you a cuter nickname than ‘kid,’ right?” he explained with a cheeky grin.

“My name’s Dipper.”

“Yeah, but ‘Pine Tree’ sounds a lot more endearing, don’t you think?”

Dipper’s cheeks, which had finally regained their natural color, lit up again. He grumbled something that sounded like an approval before exiting the room with an excuse of “grabbing food for one more.”

“Wait! What about my kiss?” Bill called cheekily after him. It had become rather apparent to everyone that Dipper would be the only candidate for it, not that the demon had a preference either way. It definitely gave him more fuel to tease the brunet with.

Dipper paused in the doorway, not bothering to turn around. “You didn’t specify _when_ I had to kiss you. You’ll get your kiss when you _earn_ it.” He sauntered off after that, an obviously amused smirk on his lips.

Bill stood back in momentary shock. _Damn, the kid had a point._ He snickered at the unexpected shot fired, hoping to get a taste of more during their trip. He’d never had so much fun teasing someone; not even knocking his haughty brother off of his high horse brought him that much enjoyment. And the fact that Dipper was witty enough to keep up with him only riled him up more.

He sighed and turned to head for the window, nearly jumping out of his skin when he came face-to-face with large, inquisitive eyes. He composed himself enough to take a step back, staring back at the brunette expectantly. When she didn’t speak, he took the initiative, “Is there something I can help you with?”

Mabel’s eyes narrowed in response, running up and down his body with an almost dangerous glare. Finally, she met his gold orbs again, hands on her hips but less heat in her gaze. “Just so you know, I didn’t convince Dipper to agree to the kiss for _my own_ benefit.” A sly smirk crossed her features before she skipped off after her brother.

Bill stared after her in wonder. He had no idea what the girl was plotting, but he had an inkling that he’d enjoy whatever it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh Bill, if only you knew what you were really getting into... The stage is set and we have our players! Let the adventure begin~


	6. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our heroes manage to get themselves into trouble within the first few hours of their trip.  
> (Alternatively: "In which Bill saves Dipper’s life and Mabel finds a damsel in distress.")

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my God, this is soooooo late!! A thousand apologies wouldn't even begin to cover how sorry I am for the delay! I've had this chapter pretty much completed for almost a month, but I just couldn't find the time to finish and post it until now, (4:20 AM, Jesus!); I really hope that the length partially makes up for it!! I've used this excuse already, but work is seriously kicking my ass right now, and I'm also in the process of trying to graduate with the rest of my class. If that weren't enough, my family is also gearing up to move, so as of right now I really can't promise that the updating schedule will get any better, (at least for the next two months). It's incredibly frustrating for me as a writer to be away from my work for so long, (this is legitimately the first time in the past three weeks that I've gotten to use my laptop for something not work-related), so you can bet that I'll do everything in my power to continue working on this story! Thank you so much for your patience and support!
> 
> Now, without further ado, please enjoy the chapter~

Dipper watched their bags slowly descend from the tower window, Mabel’s hair steadily lowering them to the ground below. Bill was already down there to grab them, having reluctantly used the same mode of transportation. Mabel had refused to let him climb back down, wrapping the ends of her hair around his waist with a quick whip and shoving him out of the window.

She released the bags with a flick into Bill’s arms before reeling the long brown waves back up. Dipper flipped back to the last page of Journal 2, reading the one line of text that had him puzzled until a few moments ago: “Continued in Journal 3.” He’d considered it a gag, knowing that Gideon didn’t possess any other books of the sort. Now, not only did he know that there was a predecessor, but he also knew that the journals had tracking properties. The prospect of another one had him excited – perhaps he could convince Bill to help him find it.

He was thrown from his musings by a lash from Mabel’s hair, the brunette staring at him expectantly.

“Right, sorry!” he apologized, snapping the book shut and allowing her to harness him up.

The realness of their impending adventure was beginning to sink in as he climbed over the bay window bench and perched himself on the ledge. Mabel sat beside him, locking her fingers with his.

“This is really happening,” she stated, a reasonable mix of excitement and anxiety in her words.

“Yeah,” Dipper nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. All of their lives, he’d never realized how high up they’d made their home – or the fact that he may have a slight aversion to heights.

Mabel sensed his hesitation, squeezing his hand reassuringly. “I’ll go slowly for you.”

Dipper gave her a small grin, tucking the book into one of the large sleeves that Mabel had sewn into his vest. While he trusted his sister with his life, he couldn’t shake the fear that gripped him.

Bill seemed to pick up on his uneasiness as well, placing the bags onto the floor. “Don’t worry, Pine Tree! I’ll catch you!” he called up seriously, illustrating his point by holding his arms out toward him.

Dipper tried to conceal his blush from Mabel, but he still heard her knowing giggle. He couldn’t deny that the demon’s offer provided him a great deal of relief, though.

He turned to Mabel, giving her a nod. That was all the warning the girl received before her brother pushed himself off of the edge.

There was a second of weightlessness before Mabel caught him. Dipper opened eyes he didn’t remember closing, gazing at his surroundings curiously.

Mabel stuck to her word, lowering him slowly. He was surprised at how different his new vantage point made the world around him look. He’d never been able to see the various shades of green in the grass and trees and bushes from the tower window. A creek ran around their tower like one of the moats in Mabel’s fairytales. The flowers were all different shapes and styles and colors. He didn’t even know that there were flowers around their tower; everything lower than the pine trees was a haze of green or blue. The tower itself was a dull grey, the stone rough and unwelcoming. He could already see Mabel’s disappointed pout – Gideon had promised her long ago that their tower was gorgeous and welcoming, coated in a rainbow of colors and built only from the nicest material.

Suddenly, he was falling! The weightless feeling returned, his surroundings blurring in a stream of incomprehensible colors. It was too fast for clear thought, only a few echoing loudly through his terror: _This would hurt. The impact of this fall would shatter some bones. This was it. This was the punishment that he deserved for trying to escape._ Dipper felt his stomach reach his throat and he shut his eyes, bracing for the presumably rough landing…

That didn’t come.

Through the haze of panic that had overtaken him, Dipper felt two strong arms supporting his curled-in body. He latched onto them like a lifeline, afraid that he’d continue to fall if he didn’t. He warily opened his eyes, meeting a pair of concerned gold ones.

“Shit, I didn’t realize I’d actually have to catch you,” the blond half-joked, his grip tightening slightly. The demon’s voice wavered as his eyes scanned the figure in his arms for injuries. “Are you okay, kid?”

Dipper nodded slowly, the reality of his fall hitting him like a load of bricks. Mabel must have lost her grip, causing him to plummet however many feet into Bill’s thankfully open and waiting arms.

Frantic emotions suddenly flooded his mind, as well as images of his drop from a different viewpoint. He watched himself steadily descend before plunging rapidly to the ground, a huge bulk sinking into his chest. The perspective shifted to meet him, arms raised above it to intercept his body. As he was caught, the weight in his chest lifted but the terror remained.

Dipper recalled scanning over something about empathy links in the latter pages of Journal 2 that described the potential for thoughts, emotions, and images to be shared through it. He realized with a shock that what he’d just witnessed was the incident from Bill’s point of view.

He looked up at the blond for confirmation. The half-demon looked just as stunned as he was, and even more fearful of letting go. He must’ve shared his own experience through their link, because Bill was looking at him as if he was a ghost.

They remained locked in that position, Dipper huddled in Bill’s embrace, each holding the other firmly. The brunet was aware of a blush dusting his cheeks at the close proximity, but he couldn’t bring himself to let go just yet. Suddenly, laughter broke past the blond’s lips, obvious relief intermingled in the merry sound. It was contagious, Dipper easily joining him.

“You almost died!” Bill cackled, setting the boy down carefully. He held him until Dipper was steady on his feet again.

“Yeah, I guess I did!” Dipper snickered, the gravitas of the moment passing with each second.

“Holy shit, Dipper!!” a frantic voice screamed down at them. “Dipper are you alive??”

“He’s fine, Shooting Star!” Bill shouted back up between giggles. “But what happened?”

Mabel didn’t reply, throwing her hair over the ledge and riding down its length a moment later. She landed facing the opposite direction of the pair, leaning over to do something shielded by her hair.

Waddles suddenly broke through the curtain of brown strands, bounding to the creek’s banks and diving into the mud gathered there. Mabel turned to face them, throwing her hair over her right shoulder. A contraption that mimicked an open backpack was strapped to the front of her chest, little holes presumably for arms and legs cut into its sides and bottom.

She wasted no more time in throwing herself at her brother, tears pouring onto his shoulder. “I’m so sorry!” she sobbed, clutching at his back desperately. “Waddles rushed at me and knocked me off balance. I lost hold of my hair and – and I – I could feel you fall, Dipper! I felt you drop and I couldn’t catch you! I’m so, so sorry! I almost killed you!!”

Dipper grabbed his sister’s shoulders and peeled her off of him, wiping her stray tears. “Are you kidding? I’m invincible, Mabes! It would’ve taken way more than that to kill me,” he jested, stroking her forearms soothingly.

Bill cleared his throat behind him, reminding him of his role in his survival.

“Yeah, that guy may have had something to do with it, too.” Dipper rolled his eyes, nudging his head in the blond’s direction.

“If by ‘something’ you mean ‘a dramatic rescue’,” the man scoffed lightly.

“Yes, I am forever indebted to you, Cipher.”

“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it, kid. I might just take you up on that offer.”

Their antics seemed to calm Mabel, the brunette even giving a light-hearted giggle. She sniffled once, Bill offering his handkerchief for her to dry her tears on. She accepted the token gratefully, dabbing at her eyes before handing it back.

The trio then looked over to the piglet that had nearly ended Dipper’s life, (or at least cause him severe injury). Waddles was having the time of his young life, rolling around and squealing joyously.

“I can’t believe I’d forgotten about him,” Dipper sighed. He supposed tripping Mabel was the piglet’s revenge – before recalling that he was referring to a baby pig rolling around in mud and not an evil mastermind.

“Eh, I didn’t intend to remind you until we were out here,” Mabel admitted sheepishly. “I thought he might jeopardize our planning.”

Dipper rolled his eyes, ruffling the top of Mabel’s hair playfully. “Please, I would’ve just left it to you to figure out, which-” he gestured to the makeshift carrier strapped to her chest “-you seem to have covered, anyway.”

Mabel nudged his shoulder in retaliation, finger-combing her hair back into place. “Yeah, well I thought it’d be easier and more comfortable for both of us to carry him around like this than on a rope.”

“It’s a pretty remarkable invention,” Bill commented, admiring the brunette’s handiwork. “Imagine using it for children.”

Mabel beamed at the blond, excitedly agreeing. “That’s what I was thinking of, too! Maybe it would give mothers a greater opportunity to work outside of the home!”

“Are you sure it would be safe?” Dipper asked worriedly. He was suddenly very concerned for his future niece or nephew.

“Safer than any child of yours would be,” Mabel shot back teasingly, tongue poking through sealed lips.

Dipper held his hands up, knowing when to retreat. “Whatever.”

With the conversation dying down, Bill clapped his hands loudly, grabbing a bag from the ground and throwing it over a shoulder. “Well then, how about we get this show on the road? The sooner we get through this, the sooner I get paid!”

The twins fell silent, looking at him with wide eyes. For the first time, Dipper realized where they were standing, on grass and not marble floors. He kicked one of his sandals off, toes sinking into the soft, green earth. His sister took it a step further, flinging her shoes off and racing across the plain. She unceremoniously dropped to the ground, rolling around until she was tangled in her own hair.

“Oh, Dipper, it’s even better than I imagined!” she cried, the widest smile Dipper had ever seen plastered to her face.

She somehow managed to free herself, running to join her piglet at the water’s edge. She kneeled down, dipping a hand into the cool waters before jumping into the shallow creek.

“You have to feel this water!” she called, wiggling her toes merrily.

Dipper relented, slipping the other sandal off before jogging through the grass to join her. The water only reached their knees, but it was incredibly refreshing to feel it running over their feet. The two had never felt anything of the like, usually relying on magic to stay clean.

Dipper was incredibly tempted to lie in the water and let it flow over him, but he knew that it would be impractical. Besides, there’d probably be opportunities for them to bathe in another river, or maybe even a lake, over the course of their adventure.

Mabel seemed to come to the same conclusion, shooting him a determined look. Scooping Waddles into her arms and giving him a quick dunk to remove the mud, she placed him back in the carrier and climbed out of the creek to find her sandals. Shaking his head at her, Dipper followed to do the same.

Bill was still standing in place, staring at the two in wonder. Dipper could feel his confusion through their link. He silently pleaded for the blond to keep his curiosity contained as he reached for the other bag beside him. As he stood to put it on, his eyes met Bill’s, the gold irises demanding an explanation later. Dipper gave a short nod, the promise appeasing the demon for the time being.

“Come on, slowpokes!” Mabel shouted, already standing near the wall of vines that Gideon always left through. Her hands were on her hips, and though he couldn’t read her expression at the distance, he could tell she was smirking. “You can kiss later, right now, adventure!”

The pair jolted away from each other, Mabel’s laughter echoing mockingly at them. As he trudged toward her and away from his childhood prison, Dipper couldn’t help but wish for someone to tease his sister about.

* * *

 

Mabel skipped merrily ahead, ensuring that she was always in front, but remaining close enough to their guide to keep from getting lost. Every corner revealed something new and incredibly breathtaking. She made sure that she catalogued every sight, already planning wardrobe designs and paintings.

She dutifully ignored the small talk behind her, knowing that her brother would want to strangle her for eavesdropping. He would never actually do it, but the burning glare he’d melt her with was a close enough threat.

Still, she couldn’t resist popping in every now and then, trying to follow the path of discussion. Apparently, if one of them lagged too far behind, a shock from their link rippled through them both until they found each other again. The conversation continued to touch on the depths of their link from either party’s understanding of it, occasional outbursts of embarrassment or rage welling up from them both. Eventually, they came to a mutual understanding, settling into a companionable flow of discussion. Presently, Dipper was eagerly asking Bill about the different types of flora and fauna around them, pointing to different entries in Journal 2 for reference. She could hear the gears whirring in his head and knew that his fingers were itching to sketch and record the answers in his own notebook. Their acquaintance seemed very amused by his inquiries, answering the questions amidst some light teasing.

She almost felt like one of those ‘third wheels’ she’d read about in her romance novels – the ones who primarily served to set the protagonists up before falling in love with a minor character themselves. The revelation left a lonesome feeling sitting in the pit of her stomach.

_‘Where is my minor character?’_ She wondered, glancing down at the piglet strapped to her chest for an answer. Waddles met her gaze, snuffling in response.

“Yeah, I’m sure they’re right around the corner,” she mumbled wistfully, giving him a small smile.

Suddenly, a shriek tore through the air, freezing the trio in place. Mabel’s head whipped in the direction of the outburst, a similarly frantic one rising from the same location a second later.

“Help!”

Mabel’s eyes shot to Dipper’s, her twin shaking his head at her desperately. She caught Bill’s eyes in her peripheral vision, the demon shooting her a similarly disapproving expression.

Another, different shout broke the tension, this one cutting into a pained wail.

Paying no mind to her brother’s warnings, Mabel bolted toward it, holding Waddles securely in place. She faintly heard Bill shout profanities after her, but she didn’t care to listen, focused on the victims up ahead. She slowed down when the cries became louder, diving into a bush near a clearing.

Peering through the foliage, she spotted a blonde woman dressed in extravagant clothing, the diamond earrings framing her face glinting at Mabel in the dim sunlight. She looked to be fairly young, though the amount of makeup packed onto her face aged her more than anything else. Her hair was mostly straight, save for a few frizzy waves along the edges due to the humidity. Bangs were cropped closely to her dark eyebrows, somewhat slicked down by sweat. A pearl necklace hung around her neck, complementing the seafoam green gown that ran to her toes. A pair of gloves in a similar shade were bunched in one hand, likely discarded due to the heat. The other hand was clutching her right arm, the wince on her face the likely explanation.

“How dare you lay a hand on me!” she chided, nose upturned despite the gravity of the situation that she was in.

Five dead bodies were scattered around her, various wounds littering the men’s frames. Their apparent killers were now closing in on the blonde, who now stood silent as the nearest one pointed his blade at her throat. They almost seemed like clones, all relatively the same build and wearing dark, grungy clothes.

“Shut the fuck up, you insufferable brat!” the man growled. “I swear, if you weren’t worth so much you’d be lying in the dirt with the rest of your hunting party.”

The blonde crossed her arms, spitting in the man’s face. “If anyone’s insufferable, it’s you creeps. I mean, I probably would’ve killed the guy myself, but why did you murder my guards? And what the hell do _I_ have to do with any of this?”

“Man, not a lot of brains in this one, huh?” one of the other men commented with a chuckle.

The apparent leader scoffed at the joke, digging his blade deep enough to make the woman cry out in pain. A bit of blood beaded at the opening wound.

“St-Stop!” she cried, gasping when the knife pressed further along her porcelain neck.

“I may not be able to kill you, but I can hurt you,” the man sneered, gesturing to the blood on her arm that was slowly seeping past her fingers.

Mabel had seen enough. She reached into a small pocket along the side of Waddles’s carrier, drawing a knife of her own. It wouldn’t be much against a few swords, but she felt better going into battle with a weapon.

“Ready Waddles?” she murmured to the pig, hearing a quiet snort in response.

Securing the bulk of her hair around her waist and tucking it into her belt, Mabel leaped out of the bush. She must have made quite the sight – wrapped in hair with a piglet strapped to her chest and a kitchen knife in her hand. The bandits stood in stunned silence, staring at her with wide eyes.

“Let her go!” Mabel demanded, brandishing her weapon in what she hoped was a threatening manner. “If you release her now, I might just let you leave alive.”

_‘Way to go, Mabel. There’s no way they’d believe an empty threat like that,’_ the young woman chided internally.

The gang gave her indistinguishable expressions before bursting into laughter. The leader released his hold on the knife at the woman’s throat, letting it fall to the ground before shoving her beside it. He drew the sword at his side from its sheath, waving it in a display of his control before directing the blade at Mabel.

The brunette gave an audible gulp, taking a small step back as he approached her. “Well, what do we have here? Where’s your husband, little lady?”

Mabel’s cheeks lit up furiously. She momentarily forgot the grave danger that she’d placed herself in and put her hands on her hips, a sour look crossing her features. “Ex-cuse me?”

The man scoffed, his lackeys joining in. “Look, I’m feeling rather generous today,” he quipped, studying the blade of his sword with a bored face, “so why don’t you just run on back to your children and forget that you saw us?”

Mabel was certain that her face was red, not from embarrassment, but in complete outrage and disgust. Not thinking, she repositioned her hold on the knife and flung it at the man’s head, managing to nick his temple.

She gave a satisfied cheer at the blood running from the head wound, the blonde snickering when she caught sight of it, too. The victory was short-lived, however, when the man turned his gaze on Mabel, eyes flashing dangerously.

“You’re gonna regret that, bitch,” he growled, wiping the side of his head with his sleeve. A battle cry was all the warning that Mabel received before he charged at her, sword raised to strike.

Mabel shrieked, clutching Waddles and diving out of his path. She narrowly avoided him, but was quickly subdued by another of the bandits, her arms secured in a vice grip behind her back.

She watched with fearful eyes as the man whirled around to face her. Her imaginative mind conjured up smoke pouring out of his ears and nostrils. In spite of the blood still flowing from the gash on his cheek, he had a wicked smirk on his lips, swinging his blade as he approached her. _She’d really done it now._

“I’m going to enjoy killing you, worthless wench,” he chuckled darkly.

She frantically searched her brain for something, _anything!_ Maybe a spell that Dipper had practiced in front of her two months ago, or one that she’d glanced at on an open page of one of his books, or even the defensive magic that Gideon had taught them so many years ago. She had never paid as much mind to magic as Dipper, being the weaker twin in that department, but _something_ had to have stuck.

“ _Edalb Part!_ ” she cried frantically as the sword arced down at her, closing her eyes fearfully.

There was a sharp crackle akin to lightning as the blade met an invisible barrier. Astonished gasps rose up from the group, encouraging the brunette to open her eyes. She released one of her own upon finding the blade impaled in the transparent wall, inches from her face.

“Sh-She’s one of those magic users!” one of the bandits yelped, the entire circle of men backing away warily. The man gripping her arms released her in a panic, scrambling to join his comrades.

“What are you morons doing?!” their leader bellowed as he struggled to dislodge his weapon. “She’s not even armed!”

“ _Cirtcele Kcohs_!” Mabel shouted suddenly, recalling an offensive spell. Sparks flew from her fingertips, frying two men along the outer circle. They immediately dropped, smoking and writhing like fish out of water.

She tried to contain her surprise, choking down the laughter that tried to bubble up. With a newfound air of confidence, Mabel stretched her hands out threateningly. “On the contrary, I’m rather dangerous. Now, I’ll give you one more chance: _let the woman go_.”

The leader growled at her in response, backtracking to the nearest gang member and snatching his sword. “I doubt I’ll miss the second time.”

Without further warning, he rushed at her again, digging his blade into the earth and flinging a cloud of dirt into the air, blinding them both.

Unable to see, Mabel was caught completely off guard. She screamed as the blade managed to catch her left side, a searing pain tearing through her body. She staggered backward before collapsing and curling in on herself, holding her wound gingerly. The combined pain from the cut and the effort of using magic for the first time in forever began to take its toll, draining her.

A triumphant smirk crossed the man’s scarred face as he towered over the injured brunette, sword raised for the kill. Mabel opted to look at her damsel in distress instead of the horrid villain. The blonde was staring at her with fearful eyes, hands clenching at her sides anxiously before catching the discarded knife in the grass to her right.

Everything moved in slow motion. She saw the blade begin to fall in her peripheral vision, turning to face her death head-on. Suddenly, a glowing yellow tendril curled around the blade, halting its motion mid-arc. The sword was unceremoniously yanked out of the man’s grasp, flying out of view. With the man disarmed, the blonde woman leaped onto his back and stabbed at him with the knife, riding his body until it fell to the ground with a thud.

Sounds of battle waged in the background. In her haze, Mabel heard a familiar voice calling out to her, demanding that she stay awake. Waddles seemed to recognize the voice, too, squealing and squirming to escape the carrier he was trapped in.

The blonde was suddenly back in her field of vision, frantically trying to keep her conscious. The woman patted her cheeks with blood-stained hands and raised her eyelids whenever they drooped. She scooped Waddles out of his confines and set him next to her face, the piglet lapping at her cheek worriedly.

Finally, the background noise died down. The clarity allowed Mabel to recognize Dipper’s voice shouting for her to be okay. Not a second later, he was sliding to his knees beside her, dropping the frying pan that he’d no doubt been using to fight and swatting the hands from her injury to examine it.

“You used magic, didn’t you?”

“What gave it away – the fatigue or the crispy guys over there?” Mabel weakly joked, nodding toward the men that she’d fried.

Dipper managed a smile, the expression a great comfort. If Dipper was able to smile, she would be fine. She felt his cold hands press to her wound, hissing when he applied too much pressure.

“Shit, sorry!” he quickly apologized, adjusting his hold.

He began reciting the alternative spell that Gideon had taught them when they were young and began to act more recklessly.

_“You have another spell for us to learn?” Dipper inquired excitedly, practically bouncing on his heels._

_“Yes, my flower,” Gideon smiled, ruffling the boy’s hair. “It’s like that other one that I taught you a while ago, but this one is for if you get hurt.” His eyes locked with Mabel’s, whom he’d just healed of a sprained wrist. There was no denying that she was the more adventurous of the two, and also more likely to need the spell._

_“I’m listening,” Mabel giggled, setting the stuffed unicorn that Gideon had brought for her down._

_“Okay, let’s say Mabel hurt her ankle. Dipper, you would place your hands on her ankle and say the spell. Mabel, if you were healing yourself, you’d have to touch your hair to the spot – that’s where most of your power is concentrated. Do you understand?”_

_The question was directed at both twins, and was answered with a pair of synchronized nods. Gideon beamed at them, continuing the lesson._

_“Now, I believe that the best way of teaching is through example. Who would like to try first?”_

_Both of them raised their hands eagerly, despite knowing that Gideon would pick Mabel like he always did. Even though it was expected, Mabel still caught Dipper’s pout._

_“Mabel, how about we try together? Face your brother.”_

_Mabel turned to her twin, their guardian scooting closer to join them. He took Dipper’s hand in his own, rubbing it soothingly._

_“I’m afraid this is going to hurt just a little bit,” he warned before a snap was heard. Dipper immediately cried out in pain, tears pooling in his eyes. Gideon disregarded the display, turning back to his other charge with expectant eyes._

_Mabel bit her lip, dutifully wrapping her hair around her brother’s hand. She tried her best to avoid his eyes, staring at her handiwork and ensuring that she was being gentle. When she finished, she looked to Gideon, who nodded approvingly._

_“Great job, sweetheart, now repeat after me…”_

_“Laeh tahw sah neeb truh,_

_Egnahc eht ‘Setaf ngised._

_Evas tahw sah neeb tsol,_

_Gnirb kcab tahw ecno saw enim,”_ she heard Dipper recite. Relief flooded her side, the effects of the spell overtaking the pain. She could feel the split skin sealing itself and latched onto Dipper’s hand.

“Don’t overdo it!” she warned, wincing when the movement tugged at the still-healing injury.

Dipper shushed her, stroking her hair comfortingly. “Don’t worry about me. You can rest now.”

The wave of drowsiness suddenly hit her again, and without the striking pain or threat of death lingering, she quickly found herself swept into it. Her eyelids were too heavy and she could hardly move her limbs. With a final reassuring nod from Dipper, she fell asleep in his arms.

* * *

 

Dipper flexed his right hand, trying to shake the phantom pain off. He hated that it was always triggered by that spell. The trauma of having his guardian break his hand not once, but twice, (he had to practice, too), had haunted him for the last twelve years. It had been the first time that Gideon had deliberately brought harm to him, and unfortunately wasn’t the last.

Bill was giving him a strange look. The blond had taught him how to block his idle thoughts from their link during their walk, so he doubted that the other knew the source of his distress. Even so, he seemed to have picked up that there was something wrong.

“Don’t give me that look,” Dipper snapped, massaging his hand as the final traces of pain faded. “What happened to our deal? You’re supposed to protect us _both_ from harm! And from the blood on Mabel’s dress, I’d say you just did a shitty job of it!”

Bill’s eyes hardened, his lips drawing into a flat line. “Your sister is the one that ran ahead; it’s not my fault that we were a bit late! Besides, _I caught the blade in time!_ I still saved her life!”

“We almost lost her!” Dipper shouted, the revelation causing his heart to skip a beat. “ _I-I_ almost lost her.”

The demon sighed, approaching the distraught teen cautiously. When he was close enough, he placed a hand on Dipper’s cheek, turning his head to his sleeping sister. “Look, Pine Tree, she’s right here. She’s alive, breathing, and the wound is healed. I understand your pain, but what’s done is done. All we can do now is move forward.”

Dipper didn’t want to look at Mabel. He was upset, and he needed an outlet for his rage. He could never take it out on his twin, and Bill was admittedly justified in not being able to predict his sister’s tendency for spontaneity. And their deal _had_ released him from any liability in cases like this.

He whirled around to face the blonde woman, who’d been siting silently at Mabel’s side since he and Bill had arrived. “What’s your excuse, then?”

The woman’s eyes shot up to him in astonishment. “What?”

“If you hadn’t gotten yourself in this mess, my sister wouldn’t be lying unconscious right now! Care to explain yourself?” He knew that his reasoning was completely unreasonable; hell, he was proud of Mabel for leaping into action and saving someone’s life. But currently, emotion outweighed rationality.

“You think I _asked_ to have my guards murdered?” she scoffed, hands flying to her hips. Her glare was hard, but there was a thinly veiled sense of weariness behind the frustration bleeding out. “I wouldn’t have even _been_ on this stupid hunting date if my parents hadn’t set me up with another one of their fucking suitors!”

Dipper hesitated, studying the blonde. He’d read about social classes and standards that were upheld, including the sacred art of courting. He couldn’t imagine being trapped in a relationship that Gideon arranged for him, especially if it was only for the sake of notability. And the fact that her apparent suitor and guards had been slain right before her eyes _must_ have been traumatizing… _Maybe he should cut the girl some slack-_

“Besides, I didn’t ask your sister to step in! If anything, she only made things worse! Honestly, is it too much to ask for some _decent_ help?”

_-nope, strike that, she was dead to him._

Bill’s eyes were wide, and he quickly inserted himself between the two. “That probably wasn’t the best thing to say…” he murmured to the blonde.

She shrugged, crossing her arms with a huff. “It’s the truth.”

“Technically, your calls for help _were_ asking her to save you.”

“Doesn’t matter,” the woman brushed off. “The point is, she didn’t _have_ to come help me. They weren’t going to kill me. She could’ve just turned and gone in any other direction.”

Dipper rolled his sleeves up, brushing past Bill. He didn’t like the idea of hitting a female, but he wasn’t prepared to let anyone disrespect Mabel, especially not the bitch she’d just risked her life for.

“Dipper stop!”

His hand froze just before touching the woman’s cheek. His chocolate brown hues turned toward his sister, who was staring at him with wide, frightful eyes. She sat up to address him, relief flooding him when she showed no signs of continued pain.

“Bro bro, what are you doing?” she asked softly, eyes darting between his raised hand and the woman that it was about to strike.

Dipper reluctantly lowered his hand to rub the back of his neck. He had no idea how to explain himself in a manner that wouldn’t end with Mabel being cross with him in some way. The blonde didn’t seem very keen on elaborating, either, turning away from them with a huff. Mabel stood and brushed herself off, pouting at her soiled and tattered clothing, before fixing her brother with an expectant glare.

“It turns out that the woman you just rescued is a total bitch,” Bill supplied casually, shrugging when all eyes turned to him with varying degrees of surprise, (and in Dipper’s case, amusement).

“She claims to be completely blameless in your injury; that she didn’t ask for your help,” the demon continued.

Mabel furrowed her brows at the two men. “She’s right. _I_ chose to jump in and save her. In fact, I probably made things worse by throwing a knife at their leader, so don’t blame her for anything.”

Dipper stared at his sister in mild horror. “You did _what_?”

“Actually, I think she might have saved _my_ life.” Mabel waved the question off, turning to address the blonde standing stoically in her own tattered and bloodstained dress. She stuck a hand out, a lopsided grin on her face. “We haven’t formally met, yet. I’m Mabel.”

The other woman looked from the filthy hand to the dirt streaked face that it belonged to. Using her index finger and thumb, she returned the handshake with mild disgust written on her face. “Pacifica Northwest.”

“That’s a really pretty name,” Mabel continued, beaming as she retracted her hand. “The two jerks over there are my brother, Dipper, and his boyfriend, Bill.”

Dipper blanched at the introduction, wide eyes trained on his sister. “Mabel!”

“Aww, you’re as red as an apple,” Bill teased, poking a flaming cheek with great amusement.

“You’re not helping,” the teen grumbled, puffing his cheeks out in annoyance.

Pacifica only nodded, attentiveness to the new information questionable at best. “Right, well thanks for ‘saving me’ or whatever, but I should get going.” She turned, whipping her frizzed hair over one shoulder regally.

Mabel frowned. “Do you have any idea where you’re going?”

The blonde didn’t bother to respond, strutting deeper into the woods without so much as a glance in their direction.

“Good riddance,” Dipper muttered, rolling his eyes. He looked up at the sky, blue having faded to orange and pink. A chilly breeze tore a shiver from him, arms wrapping around himself instinctively. “We should probably look for somewhere to set up camp for the night.”

“Why not here?” Bill asked seriously, gesturing to the clearing still littered with mutilated bodies.

Dipper couldn’t start walking away faster, Bill racing to catch up to him before the recoil from their link could do further damage. Mabel trailed behind them with Waddles on her heel, the pair shooting wistful glances in the direction that Pacifica had gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, Mabel, your love story is only beginning!
> 
> (Late) Disclaimer: The dialogue is probably (very) inaccurate to the alleged time period and I'm not apologetic for that. ^_^


	7. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bill tangles with one of the last people that he wants to see, Dipper's weird dream continues, Pacifica reappears, and Mabel sleeps through it all. And did I mention ghosts?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, did this chapter kick my ass! I honestly tried to work on it in between the usual craziness, but every time that I revisited it I wasn't satisfied with how it was progressing. And so, I apologize for the long wait, but without further ado, I present the next chapter!

So maybe humans weren’t _all_ that bad. Stanford may have been a real shithead to Star, and the ones from his past weren’t exactly brag-worthy, but as much as he hated to admit it, these two weren’t _terrible_ …

Except for when it came to picking a damn campsite!

“Kid, I already told you, _every part of this forest is going to have leaves on the fucking ground!!”_ Bill seethed, slapping a palm to his forehead for what must have been the thirteenth time that evening. They’d been searching for a place to camp since the beginnings of orange had seeped into the blues of the sky. Now it was almost pitch black, save for the moon and stars; Bill had to conjure a portable ball of light to guide them with because _somebody couldn’t get over the fact that he’d have to spend the night in the middle of nature._

Granted, it was the teen’s first time outdoors, and his imagination had probably worked up thousands of ways for him to die out here, (hell, the few unintentionally shared through their link were ridiculous enough), but that was no excuse for being incapable of sleeping in the dirt for a few hours.

Mabel seemed to have grown just as tired of her brother’s indecisiveness, plopping her bag down and throwing her head onto it drowsily. Waddles trotted up to her and curled up to her side, nuzzling himself beneath one of her arms. “Let’s take a vote: those in favor of saying ‘screw it’ and camping here, say ‘I’.”

“I!” Bill’s hand shot into the air, Mabel’s rising a millisecond after. Even the piglet snorted loudly in response.

“And all opposed…” she trailed off, shooting the brunet a disapproving look.

Dipper didn’t even bother to dispute the verdict, kicking some leaves aside to set his bag down. “Fine, but if either of you wake up with leeches or ringworm, I’m not healing it.”

“Oh please, Pine Tree, those should be the least of your concerns out here,” Bill mumbled automatically, clamping a hand over his mouth a second later, eyes wide. _Shit, what had he just done!?_

A quick glance at Dipper more than confirmed his worries. The young man was staring slack-jawed at him, awaiting further elaboration. When the demon failed to continue, his eyes darted around anxiously, hand reaching for his bag again.

Bill sighed, flicking a glowing gold tendril out to snatch the strap from the brunet’s hand, tugging the bag toward himself. He set it at his own feet, shooting Dipper a weary, but challenging gaze.

Dipper frowned, reaching for his bag as if some invisible force would deliver it directly to his hand. Not a full second later, something rustled the bushes behind him, tearing a rather undignified yelp from the teen as he inched closer to his guide. He gazed longingly at his bag, pleading eyes trailing up to the demon. “Come on, man, help me out here.”

Bill opened his mouth to retort that he was indeed trying to help, but shut it when a sudden thought hit him. _Oh, he could most definitely use this opportunity!_

Dipper was curled in on himself, obvious paranoia wracking his body. If he focused enough on their link, he could catch uncertainties like, “Why did we do this?”, “What if Gideon _does_ find out?” and his personal favorite, “What if something happens to Mabel?” It seemed that without his brighter other half, the brunet was susceptible to overthinking himself to worry. Definitely not a quality to boast about, but it could certainly work in Bill’s favor.

His lips twitched with a suppressed smirk as he sidled up to Dipper, internally snickering at the shiver that raced up the boy’s spine when he did so. “Pine Tree, you don’t look so hot,” he stated matter-of-factly, touching the back of his hand to the other’s forehead and wincing when he pulled it away.

“I-I don’t?” the brunet stuttered in response, eyes darting from the blond’s face to the shadows warily.

“No, and I doubt that sleeping out here will do you any better – if you even sleep at all,” the demon added with a knowing tone.

Dipper’s wide eyes finally settled on him, chocolate hues tired and worried. “So what should I do?”

It was getting harder to contain his grin, the boy’s emotions like putty in his hands. It probably had something to do with the fact that he’d expended quite a bit of energy in healing his sister, the brunet looking absolutely drained and somewhat delirious. Whatever the reason, he was making this way too easy.

Bill feigned a dramatic sigh, biting his lip and looking away. “Look, I don’t normally do this – in fact, I don’t think demons are _ever_ supposed to do this – but, I’m letting you out of the deal.”

Dipper’s lips fell into a thin line, his brows furrowed. “Wh-What did you say?”

“I said that I’m letting you out of the deal,” the blond repeated, voice dripping with insincere sympathy. “I’ll take you home so you can sleep in your own bed. It’s obvious that you’re feeling guilty for sneaking away without permission, and mostly for putting Shooting Star’s life in danger to do it. I mean, she did almost die twice earlier–”

Aside from the bandits incident, Mabel had stumbled across a patch of wild berries that, after quick examination by Dipper, were determined to be yew berries. The swiftness at which he’d slapped the bunch out of her hand and pried her mouth open to check for seeds was rather comical.

“–And it’s pretty apparent that you don’t have what it takes, so allow me to take you two home before any real damage is done. No harm, no foul, I get the journals and you get to keep your familial relationships and your sanity.” As he spoke, Bill was already setting the bag back onto Dipper’s shoulders, steering him toward an already dozing Mabel, and picking her up to carry her along.

Dipper didn’t resist initially, seemingly lost in thought, before he shook his head, digging his heels into the dirt and whirling on the half-demon with a glare. “Whoa, no way! I see what you’re trying to do and it isn’t going to work!”

Bill could feel his eyes take on the same dangerous red that Star’s did whenever he or Dot screwed a spell up with major consequences. He set Mabel down carefully before digging a finger into Dipper’s chest, the human backing away to avoid being impaled, but standing his ground on the matter.

“Excuse me?” he was vaguely aware of the sinister tone his voice had taken on, the words reverberating from his core with an audible echo.

Dipper visibly gulped before answering, a fire of his own igniting his glare. “I think you heard me the first time. I’m not succumbing to your ‘Charm-speak,’ or whatever the hell you demons call it. Mabel and I are going to that festival this year, and there’s _nothing_ that you can say or do to convince us otherwise!”

The passionate words threw Bill off, but not as much as what Dipper had stated before them. He’d picked up on the magic laced into his proposition – a spell used countless times in quite literally charming the pants off of people. It was a tricky technique that Dot had taught him early on, resulting in the revelation that he also had an apparent aptitude for mind magic. With this as the case, the trio often used it in their cons. Sure, people would catch onto the charade after the fact, but he’d never heard of anyone seeing through it – not even other creatures or magic users!

He must have had a strange expression on his face, because Dipper frowned at him and turned away with a huff, the paranoia that had plagued him a moment ago apparently lost. “I’m sure you’re not used to _humans_ talking back to you and all, but don’t expect _me_ to just roll over and give you what you want. Tired or not, I’m not falling for your tricks so easily.”

Bill shook his head in wonder as the teen walked as far away from him as their link would allow, laying his bag and coat down on the ground gingerly before settling on top of them, back turned to him. He didn’t know what to think of the exchange, the kid proving to be an even greater enigma than he’d anticipated.

The half-demon sighed, lying down on his back with his arms crossed beneath his head as a makeshift pillow. He stared up at the stars visible past the canopy of trees, shifting a bit in discomfort. The terrain along here was more on the bumpy side, and while he was grateful that there weren’t jagged stones digging into his back, the pebbles beneath his rear were _not_ welcome in the slightest. Just as he had resigned to staying awake through the night, a large mass suddenly smacked him in the face.

Bill sprung upright, spluttering as the offending object fell into his lap. In the dim light, he was able to make it out to be a coat, similar in fashion to the one that Dipper had tied around his waist…

His head turned to his right questioningly, eyes meeting bashful brown ones, their owner biting his lip apprehensively.

“Mabel was on a roll and made two of them for me, and I felt how uncomfortable you were through the link, so…” Dipper trailed off, nervously picking at his fingers.

Bill’s eyes widened at the chivalrous display. Just a moment ago, he’d been sulking about the demon’s (admittedly rude) attempt at manipulation, yet here he was offering him his spare coat because he sensed his discomfort.

“Dipper, I-”

“Don’t read too much into this,” the brunet quickly added, his blush apparent even under the cover of night.

“Aww, Pine Tree, I knew you cared!” The half-demon couldn’t help but tease, wiggling his eyebrows at the flushed human.

Dipper pouted, rubbing at his eyes. “I’m too tired for this; I’ll deal with you in the morning.”

“I’m sure you will,” the blond chuckled fondly. “Goodnight, kid.”

Dipper mumbled something that sounded like, “’night Bill,” in response, nuzzling into his bag. In seconds, his breathing softened into light snores.

Bill ran a thumb over the firm fabric in his lap, a soft smile coming to his lips. He inched closer to Dipper, laying the coat on the ground a couple of feet to the left of the sleeping teen. The garment created an almost cot-like surface, cushioning the rough terrain bearably.

He settled onto the coat gratefully, finally relaxing and allowing the day’s events to replay in his mind. He still wasn’t entirely comfortable with the arrangement he’d overzealously sold himself into, but the twins were steadily giving him more reason to be.

The coat provided much more cushion than one would expect from such a garment, although that could also be attributed to the exhaustion wearing on the young half-demon. Just as he felt the weight of his eyelids become too heavy to support, he sensed another being approach the makeshift camp.

_Oh, for fuck’s sake!_ He mentally groaned, steeling himself for a fight as he rolled to his feet. His head whipped in the direction of a rustle in the bushes to his right, eyes scanning the foliage carefully. He silently crept toward them, unhooking the frying pan from Dipper’s bag as he passed it.

When he was a mere meter from the intruder, they stilled, likely picking up on his presence, as well. In a bid to maintain his advantage, Bill tightened his grip on his weapon before diving into the bushes after them.

His body collided with another roughly his size, the two tumbling through the undergrowth. With the element of surprise still on his side, the blond managed to wrestle his target to the ground beneath him, only pausing to look at them once they’d been subdued.

“Wait – Dot?”

“Bill?” A pair of electric blue eyes stared up at him in shock. “So that _was_ you!”

“Are you stalking me or something?” Bill half-joked, climbing off of his brother and offering a hand to tug him up.

The other allowed himself to be dragged up, brushing the leaves from his clothes once he was on his feet again. “I was on my way back from a session with The Council when I heard voices. I thought that it was just a band of lowly humans who’d wandered too deep into the forest.”

Bill was suddenly very self-conscious, biting his lip and looking anywhere but at the blue-haired demon before him. He knew that Dot especially greatly detested humans, and being caught in such a compromising position with two of them probably wouldn’t sit well with him. Dot read his apprehension and took it as a sign to continue.

“So imagine my surprise when I find what looks to be _my baby brother_ cozying up to some scrawny mortal! Last I checked, you’re supposed to be recovering the other two journals. There had better be a damn good reason for this!”

The blond opened his mouth to respond, then hesitated, mulling his words over. The last thing that he wanted to do was let something slip that warranted Dot dragging Star into things. Sure, the two would likely have a solution to the deal, but it would not be worth the lectures and restrictions that he’d be slapped with. Not to mention that they’d never trust him with a solo mission ever again! He’d be watched like a hawk for an infraction of this magnitude.

“Well?” Dot’s snapping fingers reminded Bill that he had yet to give an answer. “This excuse has got to be good for all of the time that I’m giving you to formulate it!”

_Think, Bill, come on! It doesn’t have to be true; it just has to be convincing!_ The half-demon wracked his brain for an idea, his extensive library of bullshit racing through his mind. Finally, a story came to him, and while his chances with it were slim, it would work if he could twist it right.

He fixed his expression into an easy grin, allowing his instincts of self-preservation to takeover. Dot raised a brow at the sudden shift in demeanor, an amused smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Alright, Bill, let’s hear it.”

“It’s a bit of a long story…”

“I assure you, I have time.” Dot crossed his arms, tapping his foot impatiently.

Bill sighed, as if it had been his brother stalling and not him. He glanced around despite knowing that they were alone, and leaned in toward the blue-haired demon’s face conspiratorially. “Alright, I was hoping to keep this as a surprise, but since you insist I’ll spill the beans.”

“Oh for God’s sake, Bill! Cut the crap and tell me what’s going on!”

In his past experiences, Bill learned that the best made lies are ones founded on small truths. “I found one of the journals in the possession of those two kids. One of them seemed especially protective of it. I figured that was a bit suspicious, especially when they recognized the one that I had, and I wanted to figure out how much they know.”

Dot’s eyes were calculating, piecing the story together. “Do you think they might have some relation to Stanford?”

That possibility actually hadn’t occurred to Bill, but it didn’t matter whether or not he believed it so long as he could convince Dot of it. “There may be a chance of that. I’m still trying to weed information out of them. But if they are related to Stanford in any way, I thought I’d deliver them to Star along with the journals so that she could have her cake and eat it, too.”

Dot seemed fairly appeased by the full response. Skepticism still radiated from his gaze, but approval was at the forefront. He patted Bill on the shoulder, a small, proud smile on his face. “Not bad, little bro.”

“Thanks.” The praise mingled pleasantly with the high of successfully deceiving the older demon, leaving a giddy feeling in the blond’s core. He was certain that Dot would be keeping tabs on him, but for the most part, he was in the clear. “Now if you’ll excuse me, babysitting is a fulltime job and I’d like to catch a few hours of sleep while I have the chance.”

“Of course, I won’t keep you any longer.”

“Oh, and don’t mention it to Star just yet,” he added with a wink. “I’d like to keep it a surprise.” Bill turned to leave, but paused when Dot called after him. He didn’t turn around, but acknowledged that he was listening with a hum.

“Just… be careful. Don’t let those two lull you into a false sense of security. Remember how dangerous humans can be.”

Bill scoffed, shooting his brother a confident expression to mask the foreboding feeling trying to force bile up his throat. “Don’t worry, Dot. There’s no way that I could forget that.”

* * *

 

_He was falling. Back into the abyss, sinking through the ink-like air. There was no discernable source of light around, but he could easily see his own person. A strange red mark was streaked across the abdomen of his torn shirt. He tried to recall whether or not he’d noticed the state of his attire the first time he’d had this dream. Then again, he’d been more concerned about–_

_The eyes returned. First the brilliant gold one with the playful aura, quickly followed by the menacing pink and dismissive blue. The smaller eyes were close behind, popping up to surround him on all sides. This was where the dream had cut out last time, but if he was dreaming it again there had to be more to the convoluted story._

_His eyes focused on one of the smaller gold eyes, the same innocence present in the large one shining back at him. Suddenly, the air surrounding it flickered, twisting and morphing and glittering with various colors. It finally seemed to settle on a similar hue of gold to the one that the iris sported, the color molding into the shape of a triangle around the eye._

_Beside it, one of the pink eyes began to undergo the same transformation, settling into a pink star that slotted perfectly to one of the triangle’s corners. A blue eye on the triangle’s other side mirrored the shift, forming a blue square as its outer shell that lined up with the triangle’s side._

_From those three a wave of colors and shapes poured out to the adjacent eyes, each adopting the same look as its related eye color. Dipper was mesmerized by the ripple effect that overtook his surroundings, so much so that he almost didn’t notice the large eyes take on the same metamorphosis, barely catching the movement in his peripheral vision. The air around them solidified to form massive versions of their smaller counterparts._

_He continued to fall in spite of the cylindrical wall around him. If he tipped his head far enough back, he could see the pitch black of the air he’d fallen through. Similarly, if he looked far enough down, he could spot the darkness that awaited him, no sign of a destination present._

‘Was there a point to all of this?’ _he wondered idly._ ‘Was there some sort of symbolism that he was missing?’

_Lost in his musings, he almost missed the bright golden tendril that shot out at him. It slowly encircled his waist, almost like a gentle embrace. Dipper’s eyes traced the appendage to the large golden triangle, the eye gauging his response cautiously. When he didn’t recoil from the touch, another limb extended to curl around his center, the support from the two slowing his decent._

_It shouldn’t have been physically possible, considering that they had been moving at the same pace, but the triangle’s efforts were not in vain. He steadily felt himself coming to a stop. The golden eye seemed to be relieved in his deceleration, the corners crinkling upward at him in the faintest expression of a smile._

_Suddenly, a large pink tendril lashed at them, severing the connecting gold limbs and hurling the teen back into his rapid plummet. He blinked at the pink star, startled at the aggressive display._

_The bold pink eye glared back at him, launching another tentacle at him in an almost enraged manner. Rather than mimic the tentative approach that the triangle had taken, the star immediately went for his throat, strangling him in a rough chokehold._

_Dipper’s eyes widened as he was starved of oxygen, (or whatever substance he had been inhaling in this strange dream world). His hands moved to latch onto the offending limb and attempt to pry it from his neck, but another quickly subdued his efforts. A desperate glance toward the golden figure dashed his hopes against the rocks as he found the triangle wrapped up in the square’s cobalt limbs, eye watching him helplessly._

_As he began to lose consciousness, his eyes caught the pink iris studying him with a sadistic glee. Black spots flooded his vision, the star’s eye glinting wickedly in amusement. Finally, he succumbed to the inevitable, eyes slipping shut._

Dipper woke with a start, groaning at the cold sweat beading at his forehead. His hand subconsciously rose to his throat, fingers gingerly running along the skin to feel for contusions. He slowly inhaled deeply when he found none, finally satisfied when pain did not follow the motion.

It was still dark out, the middle of the night, if he was charting the moon’s location correctly. He glanced over at Mabel’s prone form, a faint smile on her lips. Waddles dozed peacefully in his sister’s arms, snuggled up to her breast for warmth. The pair was still locked in a deep slumber; he was relieved that at least one of them would be well-rested come morning.

Bill was also sound asleep, curled into the coat that the brunet had loaned to him. He was much closer than Dipper recalled him being before he’d fallen asleep, though the proximity allowed him another chance to openly appraise the blond.

He had very delicate features, though, unlike Dipper’s, they did not retain a boyish quality. His hair was tossed behind his right ear, revealing the pointed tip that was usually covered by the wild waves. He’d also neglected to notice that the blond sported a single earring, a small opal encased in gold, in his right ear lobe. Upon closer examination, Dipper also discovered faint traces of gold freckles splashed across his nose. No matter the form, gold seemed to be a large part of Bill’s identity. Somehow, Dipper couldn’t see it any other way.

The only impurity that he spotted was a smudge of dirt barely the size of a pebble just below the blond’s eye. Before he realized what he was doing, the brunet’s thumb was stroking the man’s cheek, gently removing the mark. Bill’s eyes lazily fluttered open, pupils still dilated from sleep. He hummed, nestling into the thumb that had quickly become a hand cupping his cheek.

_‘What am I doing?’_ Dipper scolded, yet he couldn’t bring himself to tear his hand away. As far as the labels of “criminal” and “demon” went, Bill was not living up to Dipper’s expectations. Like this, he was, dare he say, _adorable._

Dipper’s hand mindlessly wandered from the blond’s cheek up into his wavy locks. The strands felt like silk running past his fingertips. Bill released a content sigh, unconsciously snuggling closer. Dipper continued his ministrations in response, smile widening. Something about the moment just seemed so right.

Of course, the peace was quickly shattered by a sudden wail. Dipper immediately shot up, hand accidentally catching some of the half-demon’s hair in his rush.

“Ouch! While a kiss on the cheek would be preferable, a pat on the shoulder is a sufficient way of waking someone up, you know,” Bill complained, rubbing his scalp with a wince. “And here I thought we were having a moment.”

Dipper shushed him with a finger to his lips, listening for the screech he’d heard before. His eyes scanned the wilderness around them, having adjusted to the dim light after he’d awoken. “Did you hear that?”

Bill rolled his eyes, inching closer to the brunet and curling up to his side. “It was probably just an animal. You know, the whole food chain business. Now stop waking me up, I’m not ready yet.”

Dipper shook his head, shrugging the demon off to stand up. He heard Bill’s whine, but that took a backseat as the scream rose again.

“It’s coming from that direction!” He wasted no time in bolting toward the source of the noise, wrestling the pain that jarred his head when Bill was too slow to follow.

“Ack! Kid! Slow the fuck down!” the blond chastised from behind him.

The human continued to press onward as the screams became louder and more frequent. He couldn’t shake the déjà vu moment that he was experiencing, the voice emitting the cries sounding awfully familiar…

A body suddenly slammed him into a nearby pine tree, his breath knocked away by the force of the impact against the solid trunk. He glanced up quickly enough to catch a glimpse of a light green dress just before it vanished between two shrubs.

A glance in the other direction justified the woman’s screams. A pack of wolves emerged from the shadows, seemingly materializing from thin air. Their coats shimmered unnaturally, almost a transparent milky color. They emitted a glow that outshined the moonlight cast onto the rest of the forest. He’d read briefly about beings that possessed these qualities in the journal.

“They’re ghosts,” Bill confirmed with a whisper that almost gave Dipper a heart attack. He’d been so caught up in examining the newfound beasts that he hadn’t heard or felt the half-demon approach.

The two watched silently as the wolf at the front of the pack, likely the alpha, sniffed at the air. Its snout twitched as it seemed to pick up on the woman’s scent, head trained on the direction that she’d run in. Eyes narrowed, it released a single howl before launching full speed after her, the other wolves swift to follow.

“Why are they so focused on that woman?” Dipper wondered aloud once they’d all fled. “We were much easier targets…”

Bill gave Dipper a skeptical look. “Your only concern is why the wolves didn’t try to maul us?”

Dipper shrugged. “Clearly, they have some kind of vendetta against her.”

“And that’s suddenly our problem because…?”

“Because we need to help her!”

“Geez, what is with you humans and your need to rescue each other? Why not let natural selection take its course?”

Dipper didn’t stay to argue further, opting to chase after the predators. He heard a disgruntled groan before heavy footsteps followed him.

They managed to catch the wolves circling a tree, their alpha attempting to leap to the lowest branch. About twenty feet above them sat the woman that Mabel had “rescued” earlier… Pacifica, was it?

“Help!” she cried, clawing at the trunk desperately as a small crack was heard from the branch she was perched on. She scrambled to a nearby branch just as the one that she had been on snapped and plummeted to the ground. It landed on one of the wolves, falling right through its ethereal body.

“If these things are ghosts and can allow objects to literally pass right through them, how are we supposed to stop them?” Dipper murmured to Bill, eyes still trained on the blonde in distress.

“I don’t know, genius, I’m just along for the ride,” the blond retorted apathetically.

“Bill, I’m serious!”

“You seriously want to save the woman that insulted you and your sister after you both risked your lives for her… again?” the half-demon asked incredulously.

Dipper didn’t even hesitate with his response. “Yes.”

Bill clenched his fists and took a few deep breaths to steel himself before asking, “Then what’s the plan?”

Dipper tried to shake off the shock that Bill’s sudden compliance threw him into. He knew that the blond couldn’t just leave because of their link, but he was more than welcome to sit on the sidelines until Dipper made a fool of himself and gave up. “Um, I don’t have one. You’re from this forest, right? And you know about ghosts! You must have encountered some here before!”

Bill cracked his knuckles and rolled his eyes. “Geez, Pine Tree, one vicious stereotype after another. First of all, I am not _from_ the forest, it’s purely coincidence that I just so happen to _live_ here now. Secondly, my vague knowledge of ghosts should not automatically indicate that I’ve encountered them, nor should my current place of residence. Therefore, I do not know what we should do in this case.”

The well-articulated argument did its job of putting the human in his place, but it also meant that they had no clue of how to deal with their current predicament. Another _snap_ sounded from the tree as Pacifica scrambled up to the weaker branches. The alpha had managed to latch onto the lowest branch and was now steadily pulling itself up to her.

“Wait a minute!” Dipper exclaimed, an idea suddenly formulating in his head. “One of the journals has to have some information on ghosts! It’s like the ‘monster hunter’s almanac,’ right?”

“Your point being?”

Dipper threw Journal 2 at Bill in response, already thumbing through the first pages of Journal 1. “Start looking!”

“Where did you even pull these from?” Bill asked, staring at the book in his hand incredulously.

“Search now, explain later,” Dipper responded, deciding that it wasn’t the time to attempt to explain the magic that was Mabel’s infinity pockets.

Pacifica noticed their presence and took care to offer them a greeting. “Hey! Don’t just stand there catching up on your reading! Save me, damn it!”

Dipper tuned her out, flipping deeper into the tome. _Was it too much to ask for a table of contents or an index? Hell, it would be just their luck that the section on ghosts was in Journal 3–_

“Found it!” Bill cried triumphantly. Dipper eagerly looked over his shoulder as Bill read the passage aloud. “‘Ghosts come in a variety of shapes, sizes, and strengths. I’ve found that they are typically motivated by vengeance, whether it is directed against the one who wronged them, or someone associated to them. A ghost’s strength depends on the depth of the curse sworn upon their enemy. If their target is the one who wronged them directly, the ghost’s strength will be far greater than if they are attacking an accomplice or associate. Strength may also be spread among multiple ghosts united against a common enemy.’”

“So these wolves can’t be too strong if their power is divided among them,” Dipper inferred. Then again, the alpha seemed to be doing all of the work… “Unless they’ve diverted almost all of their magic to the alpha!”

“That seems to be the case,” Bill agreed. “But they still seem pretty weak. That may be why they didn’t bother with us; they only have so much power to use against their target.”

“Does the journal mention any weaknesses?”

“Yeah, and can you make it snappy? Running out of branches here!” Pacifica was nearly at the top of the tree, the alpha closing in. It had run out of branches to scale at that height, as Pacifica had broken them all off, and was now scaling the trunk with its claws.

Bill rolled his eyes at the demands, skimming the pages with a scrutinizing gaze. Dipper wanted to hurry him along, but he knew that any attempt to do so would only encourage Bill to slow his efforts further. “Ah, here’s something! You wouldn’t happen to have a silver mirror on you?”

Dipper furrowed his brows, reaching a hand out to examine the journal entry himself. “Is that really all that it says?”

“Well it mentions holy water, too, but I’d rather not have any of that stuff within a fifty-yard radius of my per _son–_ ”

Finally recognizing them as a threat, one of the wolves that had been circling the tree suddenly leaped at them, claws catching Bill’s shirt and dragging him down.

“BILL!”

The half-demon grunted, kicking the ghost off of himself and diving at it. The other wolves noticed the scuffle and began to converge on them.

“I’ll handle the ghosts,” Bill shouted to him, dodging another one that flew at his head. He tossed the book in his hand to the teen before turning back to the beasts. “It should divert enough power from the alpha to stall them for a bit. You find something in that journal that can end this!”

Dipper frowned, wanting to argue, but knowing that he didn’t have the fighting or magic skill that the blond clearly possessed. He shook his head to refocus himself, flipping back to the page that Bill had shown him. There had to be more to it, another section that they were missing… a second line of text somewhere.

He ran his fingers along the page as he reread, feeling the impressions of the text and drawn images. Despite the age and density of the book, each page retained the grooves from the quill they’d been written with. He idly traced the sketch of the ghost along the side of the page as his eyes frantically scanned the text, but paused when he felt more indentations than there was ink on the parchment.

Holding the journal up to the moonlight, he cocked the page at different angles. Sure enough, glittering text that hadn’t been visible before slowly became legible. Trying to contain his excitement, the human steadied his hands enough to make out two lines of text written in the same cursive penmanship as the rest:

_I have discovered that ghosts, much like vampires, harbor a sensitivity to bright light, especially that of the sun. Most vanish at the first signs of its dawning, but if they are directly exposed to sunlight, they will be vaporized where they stand (or hover)._

Dipper glanced up at the sky. The moon was nearing the west, but it would still be some time before dawn – and even then, the author warned that ghosts usually disappear at the first break of dawn to avoid disintegration. There was no guarantee that they wouldn’t return the following night.

“Pine Tree, have you come up with a plan, yet?” A piece of bark separated Bill’s chest from the snapping maw of a wolf, its teeth easily shredding through the wood. He held another two wolves at bay using the same golden tendrils that he’d used to fight the bandits the day before. Dipper deduced them to be his default magical weapons.

The alpha wolf was nearly upon Pacifica, who’d reached the top of the tree and was holding onto the flimsy trunk for dear life as the treetop swayed. It lunged at her, jaw closing around the heel of her boot. Pacifica yelped and kicked at it, losing her shoe in the process but managing to knock it a few feet lower.

On the ground, a fifth wolf was slowly circling Bill and the other wolves, waiting for the right moment to strike. It had a wild glint in its vacant eye sockets, and if you looked closely enough, saliva could be seen gathering at its lips.

Not knowing how to summon a silver mirror, (and with Bill too preoccupied to attempt it himself), Dipper bit his lip and willed the sun to rise sooner. If it could just pop in for a second…

The lone wolf paused its movements, body trained directly toward Bill. It watched as he wrestled with its pack member over the plank of bark, his back turned and vulnerable. Dipper’s eyes widened helplessly as it suddenly charged at the blond full-speed, claws out, fangs bared–

“NO!” he cried. If he’d had a silver mirror in that moment, he would’ve witnessed his entire body ignite with energy, his eyes and birthmark glowing. Wind whirled around him from an indiscernible source, his hair whipping about wildly. His voice took on an ancient intonation, words involuntarily flowing. “NUS I DNAMMOC UOY OT ESIR!!”

A brilliant heat and light emitted from his body, and he could feel a great force tear through his core. The air surrounding him crackled with violent energy akin to that of a lightning strike. He had more than likely blacked out, because the next thing that he was aware of was waking up with his head propped up on Bill’s lap, a hand running shakily through his hair.

His eyes unsteadily focused on Pacifica, who was kneeling awkwardly in front of him. She didn’t immediately meet his gaze, though she was clearly aware of it by the way that she abruptly jerked her head in the opposite direction and began to fiddle with her hair.

The hand in his own hair paused, an uneven breath causing the body beneath him to shudder. Bill seemed to contemplate saying something, but he quickly recovered and resumed stroking his brunet waves, the movements much smoother and less jerky than before.

“Thank you,” Pacifica finally stated stiffly. “Again,” she added as an afterthought.

Dipper drew his eyes back to her slowly, still trying to shake the remnants of his previously dazed state from his head. He became acutely aware of the raging migraine rattling his brain. He inhaled slowly, allowing the cool air to wash over him. The breeze did little to settle the thunderstorm in his head, but it woke his body enough to (reluctantly and painfully) shift into a seated position.

“You’re welcome,” he responded after a pause to gather his own thoughts. His throat was terribly hoarse, as if he’d spent the last hour screaming. Pain was slowly beginning to make itself known in other parts of his body, as well.

The trio sat in silence for another moment before Pacifica broke it with a question that had been bothering her since the brunet had arrived on the scene. “Why did you do it?”

“Because it was the right thing to do.”

“But I treated you like shit after your sister saved me the first time. People don’t normally just hand out second chances.”

“We’re not normal people.” His throat was killing him, his own voice grating on his ears. “Besides, we’ve already invested so much in keeping you alive; might as well make sure that you stay that way.”

“But–”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, just be grateful! Not everything in this world has to make perfect fucking sense!” Bill spat.

The outburst startled Dipper, who was still delirious from the output of magic he’d unwittingly projected. A wave of vertigo washed over him, but he did well to contain and resist it. Pacifica bit her lip and gave Bill a hard look, but she didn’t express a further argument.

Her eyes softened when they landed on Dipper again. “Are you okay?”

_My brain is melting, I’m pretty sure that I’m going blind, my throat is on fire, and my entire body is crippling in on itself._ “I’ll be fine.”

“Not unless we get you to Shooting Star,” Bill grumbled, standing and dusting his hands off. Despite his tone, he didn’t seem angry. _Tired maybe? Worried?_ He quickly stretched his back, having been in an awkward position with Dipper in his lap. Once he’d deemed his muscles limbered enough, he bent down and scooped the brunet into his arms, the latter too weak to fight it.

Nestled comfortably in the demon’s arms, Dipper felt himself slipping in and out of consciousness. A nap seemed simultaneously wonderful and terrible to his pounding head. Closing his eyes triggered sparks of pain that danced across his eyelids. Keeping them open resulted in bright spots that bombarded his vision and made him even dizzier.

“Relax, Pine Tree,” Bill cooed. He turned to Pacifica, who was standing beside them uncomfortably. “Think you can run ahead and find his sister? Have her meet us halfway?”

The blonde nodded, eyes giving Dipper another onceover before she took off in the direction that she had seen them come from.

Bill directed his attention back to his charge once Pacifica had disappeared from sight. “Tell me if you need me to stop, okay?”

Dipper managed a small nod, signaling Bill to take the first step. A jolt of pain flared up his legs, a similar one spreading through his back on the second step. By the eighth one, Bill stopped himself, cursing when he caught sight of tears that Dipper didn’t realize he was shedding.

He quickly sat down with him again, feeling the teenager’s feverish forehead. “Damn it, kid, why didn’t you stop me?!” he chastised softly.

Dipper moaned a weak response before he lost consciousness again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't you just looooove cliffhangers?


	8. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Dipper cheats death, Pacifica makes a decision, and Gideon is suspicious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *drops chapter and cartwheels away*

_Ma-something… Mary? Mari… bel? Wait, Mabel! …It was Mabel, right?_

Whatever her name, Pacifica found the girl seated beside a crackling fire, attempting to wrestle a knitted sweater onto her piglet. The color was almost flesh-toned for the animal, with a rainbow attached to a shooting star on one side. The piglet seemed adamant about maintaining its nudity, snorting and squirming in distaste. Pacifica couldn’t blame it – the design was horrendously tacky.

A few yards ahead of them sat two bags atop two coats that had seemingly been laid out as makeshift beds. She vaguely recalled one of them being on Dipper’s back when she’d first met them.

“Hey!” she called from the apparent edge of the campsite, afraid to get within range of the flailing pet’s limbs.

Frizzy brunette curls whipped around, piglet momentarily forgotten. “Pacifica!”

 _She remembered my name?_ Pacifica shook off her initial shock, recalling the reason for her urgency. “You need to come with me right now!”

The pig snorted and leaped out of Mabel’s hands, scampering to Pacifica’s side. It looked up at her, then back at its owner, as if wondering what was taking so long.

“W-Wait, what? What’s wrong?” The brunette rose cautiously, waiting for the blonde to elaborate further.

“It’s your brother… He–”

“Which way?” In a second, Mabel had darted past her, dragging her by the wrist.

“Here,” Pacifica corrected their route, silently taking the lead. The piglet weaved between them, seemingly distraught.

“What happened? Is he in trouble?”

Pacifica bit her lip and glanced guiltily into worried eyes before turning back to face the forest. “I was in trouble,” she admitted quietly. “There were these ghosts! Th-they were chasing me, as wolves, and… and your brother and his boyfriend… they rescued me.”

Mabel’s eyes widened impossibly larger, giving her a onceover. “Are you alright?!” Despite her obvious concern, she didn’t slow down.

“Y-Yeah,” Pacifica answered, surprised that the girl’s first reaction was to ensure that she was okay. “Yeah, I’m fine. I would be mincemeat right now if it hadn’t been for Dipper. He saved my life.”

Mabel fell silent, seeming to catch the tension in the blonde’s voice. Finally, she asked hesitantly, “What happened to him?”

Pacifica’s shoulders slumped. She’d anticipated the question on the way to find Mabel, but still hadn’t come up with a rational answer. “I’m not sure. Something to do with magic, I think.”

Mabel accepted the vague explanation with a nod. Silence consumed the remainder of their trek until they found their target unconscious in Bill’s arms. The blond’s brows were furrowed in concentration. He was murmuring unintelligibly, blue wisps curling from his fingers and dancing across pale skin.

“Dipper!” Mabel choked out, tears flowing freely down her cheeks.

Pacifica winced as the girl slid to her knees at her brother’s side, touching his unresponsive face with a broken sob. Bill murmured something to her that made her eyes widen in alarm, the two exchanging frantic whispers. Through it all, Mabel’s tears continued to fall.

She couldn’t imagine being in a situation like this, finding out from a near stranger about your loved one’s condition, then finding them practically dead. She wondered idly if not having someone that important in your life was actually a blessing in disguise that she should be thankful for.

She took another scrutinizing look at Dipper. The boy was even paler than when she’d left them, his skin coated in a sheen of sweat. His expression was frozen into a pained wince, his limbs seemingly locked up. His chest rose and fell with difficultly, shuddering breaths slipping past his slightly parted lips. Bill’s hands clenched his sides tensely, as if letting go would spell death.

“Bill, please! I can’t do this alone!” Mabel was practically in hysterics, fists clutching at Bill’s sleeve desperately. The pig was right beside its owner, nuzzling at her side in an attempt to console her.

“I’ve been trying to stave it off, but I’ll only make things worse if I try to heal him,” Bill explained calmly, though his body trembled with anxiety. “My magic is manipulative and destructive. Yours is life-giving and healing. I know you haven’t practiced much, but you’re the only one who can do this.”

Pacifica watched the scene unfold with thinly veiled confusion. She’d heard of magic existing in this forest, but had never before witnessed it in person. Now, in the span of just half a day, she’d seen more than her fair share, and it was even more inexplicable than she thought it’d be.

“B-But what do I even say? Dipper is the better one at magic, I don’t know anything!”

“You must know something,” Bill mumbled, more to himself than anyone else. His hand scratched at his chin thoughtfully. “Are you sure that you never picked up anything? Not even as a child?”

Mabel shook her head, then paused as if recalling something. “Actually… there is this one that our fath- er- _guardian_ , taught us when we were younger, but he said that it was for if we hurt ourselves. I don’t think it’s strong enough for something like this!”

She was panicking now, hyperventilating and tugging on her hair and gnawing on her lip. The tears had finally stopped flowing, replaced by hiccupping sobs that shook her body.

“Try it,” Bill ordered, taking her hands and resting one on Dipper’s forehead and the other on his chest. “You’re more powerful than you think.”

“B-But!” Mabel pulled away and shook her head, consumed by doubt. Pacifica couldn’t stand by and watch any more of this.

“Hey!” Both heads whirled on her, similar expressions of surprise on their faces. “The longer you stall, the closer he gets to death! I don’t know much about magic or family, but if he says that there’s a chance that you can do it, what are you waiting for?! You went out of your way to rescue a total stranger, so why are you hesitating when it comes to your brother?”

Mabel was frozen in shock. Her silence didn’t prevent Bill from jumping to her defense. “I don’t think you’re in a position to lecture anyone about anything. Let’s not forget who got us into this mess.”

Pacifica knew that he was on edge because of Dipper’s condition, but that didn’t mean that she was about to let him walk over her. “Oh, so you’re playing this card again? Why don’t you get back to me when you have some real mud to sling?”

Bill’s teeth were gritted, his fists clenched at his sides. He began to rise, but a hand on his forearm halted his motion.

“Don’t get on her case about it, Bill, she’s right.” Mabel closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I’ll try it.”

Bill raised a brow at her compliance, glancing back at Pacifica skeptically before turning back to his other charge. “Alright, good. Now, just focus on channeling your energy through your body and into your brother as you speak. The most help that I can offer is a boost if you start to feel weak.”

Mabel nodded, steeling herself for the task ahead. Pacifica watched with bated breath as the brunette methodically wrapped strands of her hair around the key areas that Bill had pointed out, then launched into an elaborate spell that sounded similar to the language that Dipper had presumably spoken in when he destroyed the wolves.

Her body quickly reacted to the magic, again similarly to how her brother’s had. Her eyes glowed purple, the roots of her hair igniting into a bright, almost-blonde color that raced down its length to where it enveloped the still-unconscious teen. Immediately, Dipper’s cheeks regained their color and his limbs began to twitch as if recovering feeling.

Pacifica listened to the words as Mabel repeated the incantation again, slowly realizing that it was the same spell that Dipper had used to heal Mabel’s sword wound the day before. Bill, too, seemed to have picked up on this, thinly concealed curiosity in his golden eyes.

She wasn’t sure how long they were there, exactly. Bill jumped in after a few minutes to lend some of his energy to Mabel when she began to falter. They paused a moment after that to allow both twins a break. When they resumed again, Dipper began to respond even more to the magic, eyes finally opening and body voluntarily moving again. By the time that he was able to stand on his own two feet without assistance, the sun had nearly reached its peak position.

Mabel didn’t hesitate to throw her arms around her brother, though she did take care to avoid toppling them. “Dipper! Don’t ever scare me like that, again!”

“Don’t worry, Mabes, I’m good now. There’s nothing to be scared about.” Dipper wrapped his arms around his sister, assuring her that he was alright. He still seemed physically shaken from the whole ordeal, but he definitely looked and sounded better.

Bill walked up behind him and patted his back tensely, as if he still had some pent up worry that needed to be expelled. “I’ve gotta hand it to you, kid; you sure gave us reason to be!”

Dipper parted from the embrace to give the blond a skeptical look. “Was it really that bad?”

“You were unconscious for hours,” Pacifica supplied with a disapproving frown. She ignored the eyes that turned on her, yet again, to continue. “What was that? You had your sister and your boyfriend worried sick! Hell, they’re still trying to recover! How could you just do that to them?!”

Dipper’s face paled at her words. It was clear that he hadn’t been aware of the severity of his condition. He turned to Bill for an explanation, the man relenting. His eyes appraised Dipper with a look of awe as he launched into his account of what happened:

“I was wrestling with the wolves, so I didn’t see the exact moment that it happened, but… you essentially became the sun for a split second. I can’t explain how or why the spell that you cast worked, but you managed to turn your body into a vessel for the sun, or some related celestial body. You were radiating pure light and power and energy. The ghosts shriveled immediately on contact, just as the journal said they would.

“Your body predictably went into shock after the output of magic that you performed. I’ve never seen magic executed successfully at that scale. I’ve heard tales of practitioners attempting it and becoming consumed by the power, but you somehow managed to survive it. Granted, you were unresponsive for quite a few hours…”

Dipper bit his lip and furrowed his brow at the new knowledge. “Are you sure that I didn’t draw power from you or something? You said that if I’m not careful, I could do that unconsciously through the link.”

Bill shook his head in response to the question, eyes still studying Dipper warily. “Trust me, Pine Tree, I would have felt a draw like that.”

The brunet frowned before turning to face Pacifica, as if truly taking note of her presence for the first time. “Why are you still here?”

Confused by the sudden change in subject, and mildly offended by his choice of words, Pacifica put her hands on her hips and glared at him. “Excuse me?”

“Dipper!” Mabel gasped, also thrown by his unwarranted question.

Fortunately, Dipper seemed to catch onto his mistake before an argument could break out. “Sorry, let me rephrase that,” he corrected, sheepishly, “why did you stay?”

While the wording wasn’t quite as abrasive, the new question didn’t help to clarify his inquiry. “What do you mean?”

“If I was unconscious for as long as you all said, why did you stay with us? You could’ve gone about your merry way. I’m sure the path is far less dangerous now than at night. So why are you still here?”

Pacifica furrowed her brows at him, disregarding the other pairs of eyes that fell on her in anticipation of the answer. “Would you have preferred that I left?”

Dipper quickly shook his head. “No, that’s not what I mean at all.”

“I did the same thing when Mabel was injured on my behalf. It would not have been right for me to leave while you were fighting for your life, especially not after you risked it to save mine. To answer your question directly, I stayed to ensure that you were alright, and to properly thank you in person.”

She approached him cautiously, gauging Bill’s and Mabel’s reactions. When they didn’t lunge for her jugular, she pulled the teen into a tight hug.

“Thank you,” she whispered when she felt him relax into her arms. She released him after a moment, pecking his cheek before backing away with a wink.

Dipper’s cheeks flushed cutely, and she couldn’t help but giggle at Bill’s glare. Mabel caught on and laughed, too, doubling over when the pair asked in unison what she was laughing about and wound up blushing even more.

Pacifica was the first to recover, clearing her throat to regain their attention. “Well, this has been eventful, but I should probably get going.”

Mabel’s laughter immediately ceased, replaced by a pout. “What? No, you can’t go!”

Dipper quickly stepped in. “Mabel’s right, Pacifica. The last time we left you alone, you somehow got in trouble with a pack of ghost-wolves!”

“Just letting you know now, I’m not stepping in to rescue you a third time,” Bill added with a huff, crossing his arms adamantly.

Pacifica frowned. “What are you all trying to say?”

Mabel bounced up to her, linking their arms together. “We want you to stay with us!”

“W-What?” Pacifica pulled her arm away, trying to ignore the tug in her gut at Mabel’s hurt face when she did. “What makes you think I want to go anywhere with you people?”

She felt something rub against her leg, turning to find the piglet nuzzling against her dress. Its wide eyes gazed up at her innocently, and Pacifica definitely didn’t feel compelled to pet it comfortingly.

Mabel seemed determined to convince her to stay, reaching for her hand and tugging her closer. “Well, for starters, we have a guide! Do you even know how to get home from here?”

Pacifica opened her mouth to retort, (even though she did not have a clue), but was spared of any embarrassment when Mabel continued, “And you don’t have any supplies with you! Are you going to keep wandering around in that tattered dress? I mean, I’m sure it was gorgeous before, but it isn’t very practical. And what are you gonna do for food? And what if you get hurt with no one to help-”

“Points made,” Pacifica cut in with a gentle smile, “but why would you even want me with you? All I’ve done is cause you trouble.”

“That’s a valid statement,” Bill agreed, earning a stomp on the foot from Dipper.

“We’ve already risked our lives for you twice; to say that we’re attached at this point would be an understatement,” Dipper half-joked.

“And the more the merrier!” Mabel cheered. “Y’know, ‘strength in numbers’ and all that…”

Were they really asking what she thought they were asking, or was she just jumping to conclusions? Nineteen years had taught Pacifica to never allow herself to put too much trust into anyone. Blind faith was for naïve children, a category under which her parents constantly reminded her that she no longer fell.

“What are you saying?” she asked guardedly, biting her lip. She wouldn’t be able to bear more rejection, especially not after the day and night that she’d just endured.

Bill rolled his eyes and groaned, fed up with the slow progression of the conversation. He grabbed Dipper’s hand and began tugging him in the direction of the campsite, likely to retrieve their gear. The confused brunet reached for his sister’s sleeve as they passed, dragging her along speechlessly.

Pacifica remained rooted, her fingers slipping from Mabel’s. She didn’t understand what was happening, didn’t want to read into things, didn’t want to throw herself at them. If they weren’t going to explicitly ask, she wasn’t about to dive in on an assumption. She couldn’t bring herself to take the initiative.

The fact that Mabel hadn’t held onto her tighter was proof that they didn’t really want her with them. They were just being polite. _Of course they were just being polite._ _Her entire life was reigned and regulated by courtesy. No one ever really wanted h–_

Upon nearing the treeline, the demon paused to glance back at her, a teasing smirk crossing his features when he saw her brooding face. “Well? Are you coming, blondie?”

Pacifica did her best to contain the grin threatening to split her cheeks, the gloom that had befallen her shattering with that one proposition. As if enforcing Bill’s offer, Waddles nudged her feet in the direction of the trio. Maintaining as much poise as she could muster, she hurried along behind them, Mabel eagerly hooking arms with her again.

* * *

Mabel disappeared with Pacifica shortly after they returned to their camp, claiming that they were going to change. Bill had merely shrugged at this, warning them not to stray too far. He had much bigger things to worry about.

The weight of the previous night’s events finally had time to stew in his head. Dot knew about the twins, and was suspicious of his dealings with them. It wasn’t likely that he’d report every detail back to Star just yet, but it’d be safest to get them out of the forest as soon as possible.

There was also that little connection that his brother had made regarding Stanford. Could it be possible that the journal had found its way into the twins’ hands because of their relation? Or was it pure coincidence? Does it have anything to do with their mysterious guardian?

The half-demon’s head hurt with all of the possibilities. Maybe he was overanalyzing all of this. In fact, it probably didn’t even matter. He had to stay focused on the prize! Find the third journal. Hold up his end of the deal in order to secure the second one. Don’t get attached to the twins. Return the books to Star. Go back to robbing rich bastards and swindling naïve socialites. Get an accurate Wanted poster made this go around, (the latest one was more of a whimsical caricature than a criminal profile). Continue to be a nuisance to the kingdom.

His eyes were suddenly drawn to rich pools of sienna, which had been lifeless and unresponsive only hours before. He shuddered as he recalled the terror that had overtaken him when he couldn’t feel the kid’s life force through their link. It had only been a millisecond before it returned, but the agony that tore through him was enough to fill a lifetime.

Dipper couldn’t read his thoughts, giving a light-hearted wave before going back to repacking his bag. Bill’s eyes lingered on him a bit longer, a small smile on his lips.

_Don’t get attached, Cipher!_

He shook his head, refocusing his thoughts. He had a new charge. Granted, she wasn’t under contract – his reward didn’t hang in the balance of her wellbeing, and she was only tagging along until they reached town. Still, he was inclined to protect her for Shooting Star’s sake.

Those two made a cute pair. He didn’t miss the flustered looks that one would give the other when she thought no one was watching. He still didn’t know what to make of the heiress; he’d dealt with her family on numerous occasions, (most of which hadn’t been law-abiding), but had yet to officially meet her. The Northwest name was notorious enough to give her a reputation, but negative rumors also preceded her. One of the last things that he wanted was for Mabel’s trip to be marred by heartbreak.

Dipper had finished repacking his bag, tossing what appeared to be a squished banana to Waddles. As the piglet eagerly devoured the treat, the brunet shyly approached his blond guardian, two rolls of bread and a few cookies in his hands.

“Just a small ‘thank you’ for earlier,” he mumbled, handing a loaf to him. The center was filled with what looked like strawberry jam, and it made his mouth water.

He took a bite, the bread surprisingly warm and crisp. The jam, strawberry like he’d predicted, was the perfect balance of sweet and sour. He moaned appreciatively at the taste, not missing the blush that it brought to Dipper’s cheeks.

“That was probably the best thing I’ve ever eaten!” he complimented, licking his fingers shamelessly when he’d devoured the treat. “Where did your sister learn to bake like that?”

Dipper’s cheeks reddened. “Actually, I made those…”

Bill raised a brow at that. “So he can cook, too?”

The human laughed and took a seat on his coat, the only thing that he hadn’t packed up yet. He patted the space next to him, placing a cookie on the spot. Bill didn’t know what suddenly brought on this shift in behavior, (then again, almost dying might have had some influence). Either way, he relented and plopped down, accepting the cookie with a grin.

“So…”

“So…?”

“What’s the plan?”

Bill furrowed his brows as he swallowed the last of the chocolate chip cookie. “We’re still going to town, right?”

Dipper’s blush returned and he quickly backtracked. “Oh, no, well yeah, but that’s not what I –” he cut himself off then to gather his thoughts. “I mean, are we going to make it in time?”

Bill contemplated the question as he swiped another cookie. The trip usually took about a day’s journey, but travelling with a group that was unfamiliar with the terrain could take far longer. Not to mention that he was hoping to show the twins around town a bit and allow them to enjoy the full holiday experience. They had lost a lot of valuable time between the past twelve hours, but there was a secret path that he knew of, a shortcut of sorts. The only problem was that bringing humans through it could be problematic…

One look at Dipper’s anxious face made up his mind for him. He sighed, relaxing his posture. “We did lose a lot of time, but I know a shortcut that we can use to make it up. It might be risky, but I’ll keep you safe.” He added the last part with a reassuring wink.

Dipper’s grin made his heart skip a beat. _Don’t get attached, Cipher!_

Just then, Mabel and Pacifica reemerged, the latter dressed in a yellow sweater and a flowy, forest green skirt. As they got closer, Bill noticed that the top actually seemed to be made of animal hair.

“Llama,” Mabel confirmed when she saw him staring. “Another of my original designs.”

“It’s surprisingly comfortable,” Pacifica admitted, adding on as an afterthought, “but the design is terribly tacky.”

“Aww, but you look fantastic in it, Paz! I should get you to model more of my clothes! Better you than Dipper.”

“Mabel!”

Bill forced himself to move past the comment. He really didn’t need the image of Dipper in a dress distracting him… or a skirt… or maybe a corset… _oh fuck._

“ _Ahem,_ ” Pacifica coughed exaggeratedly, eyeing Bill. He was suddenly aware that his jaw was slightly ajar and promptly shut it. “If we’re finished dilly-dallying, I’d like to get out of these woods as soon as possible.”

“R-Right,” Bill agreed, refocusing again. “As I was telling Pine Tree before you two returned, I know a shortcut to get us back on track. The only problem is the company that we’ll encounter don’t take very kindly to humans.”

Mabel scoffed. “I highly doubt that we’re like any humans they’ve ever met before.”

Just then, Mabel’s necklace started glowing and vibrating. The twins shrieked in unison and gravitated toward each other, both sporting identical panicked expressions.

“Shit! He’s never called this early before!”

“I thought we’d at least have today!”

“Okay, it’s okay, we prepared for this, remember?”

“Right!”

“What’s going on?” Pacifica cut in impatiently.

Dipper seemed to have forgotten that she and Bill were still present, eyes widening. “Don’t worry about it, it’s just our guardian checking up on us. We can handle it, but we’ll need you guys to step back and stay quiet.”

The two blondes gave the brunettes skeptical looks before following Dipper’s pleas, stepping aside and giving them room to work.

Bill and Pacifica watched in confusion as the duo dug through their bags and pulled out two large tarps. Dipper mumbled something as he unfurled the first one, the poster levitating just behind him. He did the same to the other, both coming together to form a backdrop that resembled a bedroom.

Bill could feel a slight tug on his magic through their link, indicating that the brunet was still weak and was subconsciously drawing from him. He had half a mind to cut in and stop their production, but his curiosity forced him to remain seated.

Mabel, meanwhile, had thrown a peach blanket from who-knows-where over her shoulders. She quickly tossed her hair into a messy bun and rubbed at her eyes. When she saw that the backdrop had been set up, she took a deep breath before tapping on the still-glowing shell on her necklace three times in quick succession.

A projection of a man suddenly shot out from it. It was difficult to see his face from Bill’s vantage point, but he seemed round and pale, his white hair and skin almost melding into one misshapen figure. When he spoke, it was like a cheese grater drenched in honey.

“Mabel, my sweet! Why did you take so long to answer?” His accent was characteristic of the despicable humans who bordered the forest and constantly pestered its inhabitants. A sour taste tainted Bill’s tongue as he watched the exchange unfold.

Mabel offered a sheepish grin, rubbing at an eye tiredly. “Sorry, Gideon, I was asleep. I almost didn’t feel my necklace go off!”

“Gideon” paused, seeming to take in her state of dress before continuing gently, “Why dearest, it’s almost midday! Were you up late working on another project? You could stunt your growth that way!”

Mabel’s posture visibly relaxed as the man continued to ramble about her self-care, or lack thereof. She stiffened slightly when he asked for Dipper.

The male twin kept up the charade by pretending to enter her room looking for her, unsuspecting of the video call. When he entered the frame, he acted like he had just noticed their guardian, smiling broadly. “Oh, hey Gideon! How’s your trip going?”

Even from his viewpoint, Bill could tell that the man was far less enthusiastic to see Dipper than he was Mabel. It was almost as if he’d asked for him as a formality, or to ensure that the other twin hadn’t gotten up to any mischief.

“Not very eventful. I just missed my two flowers so much, I had to check in on you! You haven’t gotten into any trouble, have you?” The question was directed at Dipper with a threatening tone.

The boy’s fists were clenched at his sides, his body trembling subtly. “No sir, just up to our usual antics. I’m just rereading _The Canterbury Tales_ … for the fourth time this week.”

“For goodness’ sake, child! Don’t you ever get tired of reading that garbage?”

“Well I wouldn’t have to reread it so often if you bothered to actually buy something for me once in a while,” Dipper grumbled almost inaudibly.

“What was that, boy?”

“I said that I happen to like the various stories and characters,” Dipper grit out, “but I appreciate your input.”

Gideon hummed at the response before turning back to Mabel. “I have to go for now, but I can’t wait to see what you’re working on! You’ll _have_ to show it to me when I return.”

“I’ll work extra hard to ensure that it’s finished by then,” Mabel agreed wearily. “See you soon!”

“I love you,” Gideon smiled, eyes trained solely on Mabel despite both twins remaining in-frame.

“Love you more,” they both responded automatically.

“And I love you most,” he giggled before ending the call.

The second that the screen phased out, the pair collapsed onto the grass, Mabel’s hand covering the shell cautiously.

“Well, that was surprisingly easier than I expected,” Mabel commented.

“Yeah, he seemed rushed for some reason,” Dipper agreed with a suspicious tone. “You don’t think he’s onto us though, right?”

Mabel shook her head, reaching over to ruffle her brother’s hair. “Oh, don’t be such a worry-wart, Dip! I’m sure he doesn’t suspect a thing!”

She stood, dusting the torso of her jumpsuit off before setting to work folding the tarps back up. Dipper released them from the magic he cast, but made no move to get up. Bill thought it as good a time as any to approach him.

“Everything okay?” he asked cautiously.

Dipper merely shrugged in response, opting to gaze up at the canopy of trees. Bill wanted to press him for more information, but seeing the kid’s reluctance to even answer that question made him hold off on his interrogation.

Just then, a low growl had everyone on alert, eyes scanning the surrounding undergrowth for its source. Three pairs of eyes landed on Pacifica, the blonde attempting to play the noise off by looking behind herself. When her companions weren’t fooled, she sighed and clutched her stomach. “This shortcut of yours wouldn’t happen to include a place to eat, would it?”

Ironically, that was the part of the shortcut that Bill was most dreading. Ideally, he’d like to have them in and out as quickly as possible. Realistically, he knew that it was the only eatery within miles of their desired destination, and while the twins’ rations made scrumptious snacks, they weren’t exactly adequate sources of sustenance.

“It does, actually,” he finally answered, knowing that there would be no way around it. He could only hope for minimal damage as he led the group into the belly of the beast.

* * *

Gideon was suspicious. Very suspicious. While he didn’t exactly expect a call, not hearing anything from his precious flowers had set him on edge. He’d hoped that seeing their innocent faces would put his fears to bed, but the uncomfortably rushed conversation had only heightened his anxieties.

There was something off about the lighting in Mabel’s room, about the flow of conversation, about how reassuring their tones seemed to be. Dipper’s entrance had impeccable timing, and Mabel’s excuse, while plausible, wasn’t portrayed very convincingly. And was it just him, or was there a faint breeze washing through the tower?

But they wouldn’t dare go outside, especially after he’d explicitly forbidden them from doing so. Dipper, perhaps, but his sweet sugar blossom Mabel would never do something so rash and dangerous… unless she’d been tempted by her treacherous brother to do so!

No, no, he was overreacting. He’d call again tonight and tuck them into bed. Surely he could wait that long, besides, he was already halfway to the trading post. What sense did it make to turn back now over a small hunch?

… Fuck it, he was turning around.

* * *

Fiddleford removed his helmet as he entered the throne room. Stanley stood near the balcony that overlooked the town square, gazing vacantly out the glass doors. His stance was regal, back rigid and straight, both arms tucked beneath the cape that ran down his back and pooled on the marble floor. The general couldn’t help but visualize Stanford right beside him, mirroring the pose. In that moment, the king probably would’ve cracked a joke that brought the faintest smile to his twin’s face.

Despite the sunlight that radiated off of his grey hair and shiny clothes, his eyes were dulled from years of stress. The toll of losing his family weighed more on him than kingdom business, even now, nearly two decades later. Fiddleford had been close to Stanford in the years leading up to his disappearance, but he couldn’t imagine the pain of losing someone you’d spent your whole life with.

The doors closed loudly behind him, alerting Stanley to his presence. The king wearily averted his gaze from the balcony to the general before him, managing a small smile.

“Your highness.” Fiddleford bowed formally.

“At ease, General,” Stanley dismissed with a wave, moving to sit at the throne.

The majority of Fiddleford’s visits to the king were casual, the two addressing each other on a first name basis and lounging about. Neither really had any family left, Fiddleford’s having abandoned him when his work began to overtake his life. They would often entertain themselves with a game of chess or strategize over a cup of tea or reminisce in their past adventures. Today, however, he was here on urgent business.

“Sir, I’m afraid that we lost Cipher and the Matrix siblings in the forest.”

Fiddleford winced as Stanley pounded his fist on the arm of his throne, bolting upright. He didn’t respond immediately, pacing to rid his anger instead of taking it out on his friend. Finally, he paused, removing his glasses and rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly.

“Those three have been a thorn in this kingdom’s side for far too long!”

This wasn’t the first infraction against the kingdom that the demons had committed. Only a few weeks ago, they’d stolen the lost twins’ crowns and gotten away completely unscathed. The crowns had turned up a couple of days later on the black market, according to one of their inside sources, though the number of transactions that they had gone through before being found left their source untraceable. And that was only the tip of the iceberg.

“Don’t worry, sir, we’ve set our best tracker on their scent. We’ll catch those criminals this time!”

Stanley accepted the proposed solution solemnly, pacing back to the balcony. Fiddleford trailed after him tentatively. The king removed his crown to run a hand through his silvery tresses.

“Fiddleford, I need that journal back,” he pleaded, turning to meet the other’s gaze. “Not only is it the last thing that I have left from Sixer, but it also contains vital information on the Natives that we’re powerless without. You know that as well as I do.”

Fiddleford nodded. There was no way that he could forget something like that. The sentimental value was one thing, but the information that it contained more than doubled its worth. He’d contributed to the efforts, but his knowledge was nothing compared to Ford’s expertise. Those journals had been incredibly important resources, and with the other two having vanished with their author, Journal 1 had been their greatest weapon.

“I promise that my men and I won’t let you down this time,” the general saluted. “I will see to it personally that those bastards hang for their crimes!”

Stanley laughed at his friend’s choice of words, knowing that the crude insult was thrown in just for him. It was rare for the polite man to use profane language. “Sounds like music to my ears, Fiddles. Dismissed.”

Fiddleford nodded, securing his helmet back atop his head as he marched out of the throne room, an even greater determination fueling his stride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the continued support that this story has received! I'm immensely sorry for all of the delays. I'm starting a new job next week and I'm starting school in a month, but I have no intentions of abandoning this story.
> 
> In other news, I have another BillDip story that I'll probably post the first chapter of sometime today or tomorrow, and I've also fallen headfirst into the Voltron fandom, so if any of you are into Klance, stay tuned ;)

**Author's Note:**

> (All magic is cast in Native Faller language - backwards speech!)


End file.
